


50 Shades of Russia

by RealmOfTheAbsurd



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is the manipulator, Alfred really likes his brother., Alfred wants that, Angst, But only a tiny bit for plot, Comedy, Dubcon Kissing, Emotional Manipulation, Guns, I'm Bad At Tagging, Ivan legit thinks he has a chance, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Mystery, NO rape, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Graphic Violence, Not all of this is on ivans part, Plans of Murder, Romance, Russian Mafia, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Manipulation, Sharing a Bed, Stockholm Syndrome, Talk of murder, Underage Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Weird twist?, bad planning, leading on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:11:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealmOfTheAbsurd/pseuds/RealmOfTheAbsurd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Alfred F. Jones is Kidnapped by a Russian mafia Underling by request of the big boss. When powerful Ivan Braginski hears of this, he starts to plot his revenge against the man who ruined his life. How? It's simple. He makes the young abducted boy fall in love with him, but what will Ivan do when he's the one falling? Falling further into love and lies that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a typical Friday afternoon in D.C. Killings, muggings, robberies, the usual things, all complimented by the thick industrial air and lovely green little lawns. I had taken a sick day, not really all that sick, and stayed at home in my boxers watching reruns of really crappy old soaps and Golden Girls. I was sprawled out on dad's recliner, chillin' with a bag of salted Ruffle potato chips and a two liter bottle of Mountain Soul juice. The episode that had been on was one I knew like the back of my hand. Blanche's brother was gay and bla bla bla. I flipped through the channels, looking for something with guns and blood and guts, and found nothing. So, I had done what any rational teen would do. I flipped to the T.V Guide and watched the weird dramas they had on, completely missing what was on the toon channel the first couple times.

Being at home while the poor saps I called classmates were in math had been a triumphant waterfall of awesome that poured down over me, proving that I was a badass. My mom had called me in sick, but that was badass enough as it was. I mean, it was my idea and all... Not that I would ever justify skipping school or anything, but the last couple of days were... weird.

So, earlier that week, Monday particularly, was fairly normal. Mom cooked food, I went to school, then I went home home, then ate more food, then went to bed, but after that the week got really odd.

I had gotten on the yellow turd rocket to hell that fine Tuesday morning and talked it up with my best buddy Jack. We'd talked about the normal stuff eighth grade boys talked about, which was boobs, but I digress, things got weird that day. Some particular cars started showing up more often, a fine black Mercedes Benz in all its German glory was the most notable, and there was a sudden surplus in the supply of fresh male teaching aides who did no actual aiding or teaching but sat around and bored their eyes into my soul. New adults also showed up at school, who loitered about and asked way too many personal questions like, "Are you sexually active?" and, "Do you have a girlfriend?", yet somehow unaffiliated and unknown to the school. My lunch table had slowly been infiltrated by weird angular people whom no one had seen before, and a very testy man with black hair started to hang around my locker after school. Now that shit is just weird, pardon my French, but the worst part was when I opened my locker that Thursday to put my books and candy wrappers away. My locker was clean. Spotless. Like a baby's butt. My books had been stacked and organized by size, color, and alphabet. Tied neatly to my backpack with a black ribbon was a letter, which was also bordered in black. The man who put them there was nowhere in sight.

I re-crapabatized my books, thew more trash into my locker than ever before, shoved the homework into my backpack and bolted my tiny ass to the bus. Shaken, I sat down next to Jack and stared at him like an idiot, hardly able to wrap my mind around the significance of what just happend.

"Bro, You okay?"

"Dude." I started, preparing to finish the sentence, but unable to find the words.

"What's wrong?"

"Like... Just..." I looked at the letter on my backpack. "Someone left me a letter in my locker..." I handed it to him.

"That's what this is about? A letter?"

"No, like," I had taken it back from him and started tearing it open. "They cleaned my locker and... organized it." I had the letter out and had opened it by then.

One day.

Was all it said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Jack asked, like I knew.

"It means I'm not coming to school tomorrow is what it fucking means!" I opened the front pocket of my backpack, the one I use for trash accumulated on the bus, and found it cleaned out too, and replaced with more black bordered letters. I opened them all, and found their contents to be a terribly cheesy rendition of the 'seven days' phone call, but on paper and with only five days.

That's why I was home on a school day. I'd told my mom and said she would talk to the principal about it when she could. I told her that I was not going to school, no matter what she said... But I said it nicer, with a begging, doe eyed, breathless "Please?" at the end.

So I lived it up on Golden girls, salt, caffeine, and toons, but I'd just gotten settled in my dad's recliner when the doorbell rang. I got up and looked through the peephole, but no one was there. I'm not dumb though, this is D.C. People kill you like that. You think the persons gone, so you open the door to look and BAM. They kill ya, right there in your own home. Then they pillage the place and leave without even shutting the door, all while in broad daylight! So, I knew not to just open the door because I really liked my Xbox, but I was also curious. What if the neighbor had crawled over bloody and in need of my expert hero skills? It was my job to save all the lives of my fellow citizens when they crawl on my doorstep bloody and dying!

So I peeked through the curtains to see if anyone was there, staining the concrete steps with their blood. Nope, no one, JUST A BLACK MERCEDES BENZ. So, I freaked out and almost crapped myself. What was I to do in a situation like this? The Popo? They wouldn't believe me. Mom? She'd kill me first. Dad? He was away on adult people things, and my twin brother was acctualy at school. I was alone, so I did what I had to do. I popped in Home Alone and learned from the best. Unfortunately It was a rather long movie and there was no actual guid on what supplies you needed or how to set things up, so I grabbed my bag of marbles, sat in the kitchen closet with the all the cleaning products and hoped for the best. After forever had past and no one had dragged my screaming ass forcibly from the kitchen supply closet, I got out on my own and went back to the living room, totally convinced that I was overreacting.

"Home alone? You Americans sure know how to make one hold their balls. I came in and half expected my cruder parts to be smashed off."

My heart jumped into my throat and my pulse picked up. I looked over at my dad's recliner to see if there really was a huge Russian man talking about his nuts being clobbered off in my house, but to my great relief it was just the creepy black haired guy that stuck around my locker, and not a Russian.

"Oh god. It's just you. I thought there was a Russian in my house..."

"I am Russian." He stated.

"Yes... that would makes sense because the voice... Why are you in my house?"

"You didn't lock the door."

"Oh. Yeah. That's right. I didn't do that." I stood there, looking at him, him looking at me, a soft friendly smile on his face. I was really shocked. Why else would I be thinking of normal reasons for the stalker guy to be in my house?

"Uh... You want something to drink? We got... soda and lemonade and other, uh... American shit..."

"No I am good, thank you." We looked at each other, my brain doing its best to grasp the situtation without panicking. He turned his head to look at me better.

"Yes, I like to look at your body, but when will you put clothes on?"

I jumped, and looked down at myself, patting my stomach a little. Boxers and socks. I'm such a lovely host.

"Oh shit! Geez I'm so sorry! Uh, i'll go do that now. Just... Just don't tell my mom, she'll kill me!" I ran up to my room and slammed the door.

"She will never have to know." I heard him say after me. I was pulling on my jeans when it all finally hit me. Black haired stalker guy was in my house. He was also a Russian. What made the situation 20 gazillion times worse because everyone knows Russians wrestle bears and have vodka for blood.

"Oh shit. Just keep your cool man. Nothings happened so far. Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he wants to freak you out. Just Keep it cool. He'll leave when he figures out he ain't got nothin' on you." I pocketed my army knife and silently thanked the Swiss before heading back down to the living room, just in case I needed it.

"You sure you don't want anything." I asked him. "We have... Cheerios."

"No. I am fine."

"Meat?"

"No."

"Vodka? Rum? Wine?"

"I do not want anything."

"You sure? We have rat poison."

"No. I am fine, but valiant effort. I commend you."

I entered the living room and thought about where I should sit. If I sat too far away, he would have know I was shaken, but it would be stupid to sit close to him, so I decided to sit a little ways out of arm's reach on the sofa.

"You wish for this chair back?" He asked, and patted the plush arms of the recliner.

"No. It's hard to get out of when you're in a hurry. I'm fine here on the sofa that's easy to get off of, thank you."

"Oh, I see how you are."

"Yes... I am... are.."

"You amuse me."

"When are you leaving?"

"Oh, I do not know. Before you mother is due I suppose."

"She's coming home soon."

"You lie to me."

"I'm a liar."

"You are becoming a very bad one."

"Dude, you should like, really leave!"

"You should keep your locker clean, but i'm not here to tell you what to do, I am here to ask questions. Besides, we are friends now." He'd been thoroughly amused with the game he was playing on me.

"W...What? No. No. How do you make friends in Russia?" I started to lose my cool, irritated at this mans ability to just come into my house and not steal all the valuables. I'd started talking with my hands, shaking them at him, and poking my palm real hard to make sure he understood what I was telling him. "Dude, you are in America now. Not Russia. In America, we don't cleans out peoples lockers, or leave them creepy letters or-or like, come in their houses when we don't know them or like... be generally creepy and not steal their stuff. Do you understand what i'm saying to you? These are valuable American ideals! Like, so, don't do... what you're doing. Then we can be friends."

"So... change all that I am?" His smile never really changed, he just looked very amused and cocky.

"Or go back to Russia."

He laughed at this. If you could call the low rumble in his chest a laugh. He pointed at the movie stand.

"What do you like?"

"Dude, leave!"

"Tell me and I will do as you ask."

"... Seriously?"

He stared at me, not backing down.

"I like a lot of the movies! Thats why we buy them!"

"The games too?"

"YES."

"What do you like to eat."

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE."

"You must tell me for me to leave."

"I don't know! Peanut Butter?" I looked at the snacks placed around him. "That stuff! Chips and soda and other American things!"

"You are not the cleanest person."

"Please leave."

"Are you a virgin?"

"Oh my god. Get out of my house!" I went to the front door and opened it. "Leave. The door is here. Get out. Leave this house, get in your fancy car, get on a plane and go back to Russia. Or swim. Whatever gets you out faster."

He got out the the chair with ease and walked over to me.

"Maybe you do not understand, hm?" He'd leaned over me. "I can't leave just yet." His body was just behind mine, I could feel his breath on my neck.

"Shut the door."

I shut the door promptly on his command. He moved his hands to my neck and traced circles there before tightening his grip. "You're tall for your age." He whispered in my ear.

"I-I like girls."

He laughed, the amusement that was once there comepleatly gone.

"Answer my questions and everything will be fine, and I will leave, okay?" He tightened his grip even more. I made an attempt to rip his fingers from my neck, but was unsuccessful.

"Okay I get it! I get it." He started to release me and I grabbed my pocket knife and stabbed the fuck out of him, only to realize that I hadn't flipped the blade out. He grabbed my wrist, shoved his thumb between the bones and twisted. I screamed and thrashed. I reached behind me and scratched at his face, trying to draw blood. He shoved me against the door, and put pressure on my lower back, which made it hard to breath. I kicked back, trying to crush his balls, but the angle had been weird and I missed.

"Stop that, Alfred."

"God leave me alone."

"Stop or I'm going to have to hurt you."

I didn't stop. He sighed and slammed my head into the door. He released me and I slid down the door, cradling myself.

"I told you I would have to hurt you. You must listen to me." He crouched down to help me up, but I bolted past him and ran up the stairs to my room.

"You are making this very hard." He'd said before following me up the stairs. "You only have to answer my questions."

I was quick enough and managed to lock the door. I looked around for a way to get out, but found no escape but the window that lead two stories down. If I broke my legs I could never get away, but by that time he'd made it to the door and had tried to open it. I ran to my window, thinking it the only way out, but he'd used his freaky Russian strength to break my door down.

"Your parents are going to be very mad when they see what has happened to your door."

I'd gone behind my bed and started throwing shit at him. My lamp was the first to be thrown, shattering against the wall when I missed. Other things were thrown too, my alarm, books, pillows, a glass bowl. Nothing stopped him of course, for he was an unstoppable wall of Russian power.

He rounded the bed and I jumped over it, throwing my blanket at him, hoping it would stop him long enough for me to get away.

I ran down the stairs, and hoped to make it to the door but was only able to make it to the living room. I ran around the sofa and stood by the DVD stand, taking a few in hand to throw. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me, hand on the rail.

"Your feet."

I threw a DvD at him.

"You told me you liked all of those, must stop before you ruin them."

"Shut up!" My voice had been shaking and had probably gone a little horse by that time. I'd looked to the door and started to move towards it, but I hadn't masked my motives in the least so he was at the door before I had a chance.

"I'm getting tired of this Alfred."

"Stop saying my name!"

"Answer my questions."

"Get out of my house!"

He moved to me, and I ran forward, dropping the DvD's, running over the recliner and into the kitchen. He'd been just behind me, and in my scramble to be free I knocked over almost every kitchen appliances in the house. I'd been slow in my scramble though, and he grabbed me and threw me on the tile, pinning me down with his weight, which threatening to crush the air from my lungs.

"You have left blood everywhere."

"Let me go!"

"You are being silly, Alfred."

"Shut up!"

"Answer my questions."

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Please!"

"No. Just answer my questions."

I bucked up, trying to throw him off, but he stayed on.

"Stop this Alfred."

I reached up with my foot, grabbed a draw and yanked it out. It hit him in the back, but did no damage. I'd only succeeded in dropping a heavy drawer on my legs and scattering measuring cups all around.

"I will hurt you Alfred, stop this."

"Get off me!"

"I will hurt you Alfred, stop this!"

"Get off me!" I Reached up to bite him, and he punched me in the gut.

He started to talk very softly, as if to soothe me while I hacked up my guts.

"I just want you to answer a few questions for me. Just a few, and then I will be gone, never to set foot in your house again. I will even stop showing up at your school. Just a few questions is all, and we'll leave."

"There's more of you?"

"Of course. There are two people in this house Alfred. Answer the questions and we'll leave, okay?"

"And you'll leave forever?"

"Yes. Forever."

"...Let's get this over with."

"Good, I'm glad you came around." He pulled out a cell phone and pressed a button. "Talk into this, okay?" He held it to my face. "Okay, are you a virgin?" I didn't answer. "You must answer and we will leave. Forever."

"...Yes."

"Ah, good. What movies do you like?"

"Action, comedy. Stuff like that."

"Okay, what foods do you like?"

"I already told you!"

"Again please."

"Processed stuff, sweet stuff, sugar. Salt. American things. Peanut butter, chips, chocolate, soda. Pasta stuff, meat stuff, fried stuff."

"What don't you like?"

"Uh... Like... Liver and intestines and stuff. I don't like cooked spinach. Asparagus is nasty and makes your pee smell bad. I like to try everything though."

"Good to know. What clothes do you like to wear?"

"Like... Jeans and t-shirts and stuff. Abercrombie, American Eagle, Hollister. Soft things like that."

"Soft things?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"This is also good to know. What do you do in your spare time?"

"T.V, video games, books, school work. What else would I do?"

"What do you like to do?"

"Outdoor stuff... Video games. The usual."

"What do you like to do outdoors?"

"Football, skiing, sledding. Go to the mall. BBQ's. Hang out with people..."

"This is all very good to know."

"Are you guys leaving now?"

"Yes, we are leaving now." He flipped the phone closed and put it away. He hauled me up. "Okay, here we go."

"Finally."

Before I knew it there was a cloth over my face. I tried to force him off without breathing, but everything had gotten dim, and I had lost my strength. I fell limp against him, barely conscious. The kitchen door opened.

"His feet are bleeding. He tried to fight me off, he is quite an energetic one." There was some laughing, and then everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred sleeps a lot.

The noises started to wake me. Before it had all been far off sounds and a low rumble that vibrated my skin numb, but slowly bits and pieces started to fit together. It all formed a rather messed up story. I don't know what sucked my energy more, the loss of the adrenaline in my blood, the fight for my freedom, or the jet lag. I'd tried to lift my head and see where I was, but someone gently pushed it back down. They said words softly into my ear, but it all blurred together. I thought maybe it was my dad, but... my father had never stroked my hair in such a gentle way.

I reached up to feel the hand that caressed me, and was only a little surprised when it started to caress my fingers back. The voice murmured to me again. None of it had been coherent of course, but it lulled me deeper into this... delerium. I had no Idea what I was experiencing. The gentle touches that danced across my skin felt comforting, but I was unable to understand why I'd needed the comfort in the first place.

I was at the mercy of others, and if it wasn't for my tired mind and body, maybe I would have known and done something to stop... whatever it was that they were doing to me. I was unable to really see or hear anything anyway. Everything moved too quickly for me to understand what was going on, and the touching... The voice in my ear... It was all so damn distracting. It was like being an infant again... Only able to concentrate on one thing at a time, and finding everything fascinating.

I was steadily becoming more and more conscious though, and I made several attempts to move, all of which were stopped with the gentlest of touches. I tried to speak, and I could feel my lips moving, but I don't think any real words came out of my mouth. Whoever had been with me tried to calm me down by patting my stomach, but my eyes and brain were clearing. I pushed his hands away and sat up to look around. I was in an old flying metal death trap with three other people who were most probably going to kill me. At least I thought.

The pilots looked back at me and spoke, of course I didn't understand any of it, and tried to stand up. The man who sat next to me pulled me back down onto this plush 'bed' thingy. I tried to sit back up again, but he became very... Firm this time, and held me down a few moments so that I would 'get it.' So, I laid down and looked at his face. He was rather handsome with his blue eyes and brown hair, but then again, he was also Russian, and I always thought Russians were pretty. He'd stroked my hair again, then begun to presses another chloroform rag to my face. I was almost out when suddenly the whole plane flipped, and I was thrown against the side of the plane. Then It all went black.

My ears were ringing and my body was cold. I tried to open my eyes but I only saw black dots on a white canvas. I tried to lift myself up, but collapsed under my own weight. I'd tried a second time and managed to flip myself over in a panting aching heap. I was outside in the frigid cold, looking up at a dark colored sky. I watched as snowflakes fell and plumes of black smoke rose to replace them. I was dazed by the contrast between the two, and the melted snow that rolled down my cheeks made no attempt to lift me from the it.

It felt like christmas. The warmth of the fire... The crackle of the fire... Laughter... It all seemed so real that I could have roasted marshmallows over it, I swear. I tried to think of reasons as to why I was outside in the snow, but my mind told me it was tired and that I should go to sleep right there in the snow. It was a very tempting Idea, because... Well... For some reason I wasn't all that cold anymore, so I made no attempt to move. I just layed there and watched the snow fall against the black smoke.

Soon a long shadow fell over my eyes and I looked over to see what caused it, but was distracted by how red the snow was. I was thinking about it when a warm bottle was pressed to my lips, and I was forced to drink the liquid that slid down my throat. How I hadn't noticed the man before is a mystery to me, but when I did, I thought he was an angel.

He took off his coat and scarf and wrapped them around my body, before lifting me up and placing me into another vehicle. It was amazing how warm the cloths were. They were large and soft and smelled nice too, but I just couldn't get over the warmth. Before I knew it I had fallen asleep. I knew this because eventually I was jolted awake by a curt shake and then lifted up again.

We entered a rather modest house, or so I thought. I was placed on the warm hard floor and my clothes were swiftly torn from my body. Bare skin pressed against mine and soon I began to feel the cold in my limbs. I tried to breath in but couldn't seem to find any air. I tried again and again and soon warm lips pressed against mine and forced air into my lungs. The feeling in my limbs had slowly returned in a searing, burning pain. Air was forced into my lungs again, and when the lips moved from mine I cried out in pain. The man began rubbing my chest in a circular motion, warming my vitals with his hands. Soon I was able to breath on my own again, and he moved away from me. I started to babble, talking, saying anything I could to keep him near me... Anything I could to keep the warmth. He returned to me with more warm liquid and made me drink.

Then wiped my face with a warm cloth and blew hot air over my cold skin. His face was so near mine, I reached out to touch it, but he took my hands and placed them under my pits before I could touch his face or his ashen hair. After that he wrapped my bare body in a few blankets and made me drink more of the warm liquid.

"Are you an angel?" I asked to get his attention.

"Nyet, I am no angel." He whispered.

"Did you save me?"

"There is no one else. You are tired, da?"

"Yea." I said after a moment.

"Then you will go to sleep."

He picked me up off the floor and laid me down on a plush bed, throwing more blankets over me.

"Make sure to keep the middle warm, and don't run the fingers together, you will hurt yourself if you do. Now sleep." He smoothed my hair, turned off the lights and left the room. I fell asleep quite quickly and had dreams of fire and screams, only to wake up several hours later overly warm and very dreary. I kicked the covers off my body and tried to get up, but couldn't find the edge of the bed, only a wall.

"You must learn when it is time to be still, tiny boy."

I stopped moving... Maybe even stopped thinking. None of it was a dream. It all really happened... I had been kidnapped, drugged, abandoned in the snow, and rescued by some white haired guy who took off all my cloths. My family probably though I was dead, my body hurt, I was thirsty, overly hot, and in bed with some unknow man. My life really sucked.

I'd looked down at myself... I was in my pj's... So he'd dressed me... He'd taken all my clothes off and then dressed me. I'd had more skin ship with a man I'd met only a couple hours before, than I'd had with any woman ever.

"Lay back down." The voice commanded.

I laid down, and he threw more blankets on top of me, then moved me closer to his body. I pushed him away.

"I-it's too hot!"

"Oh it's too hot? Just a few hours ago you were dying from the cold, and now you are too hot? You would like to go back outside with the snow and the wind, da?"

"...Not really, no."

"Then you will go to sleep."

His whole essence was menacing. He oozed authority the way BP oozed off-shore oil spills. It was devastating and could ruin a whole eco-system. I didn't move. I laid there, smothered between a huge Russian guy and all his blankets, waiting for him to fall off into sleep. It was impossible to tell if he was acctualy sleeping or not, so I sat there quietly, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to slow. I could feel him against my back... His breathing never changed, it was steady and even. His breath was hot against the top of my head, his arm around my waist was burning its way into my flesh, and I could feel myself start to go crazy. There was noting I hated more than people breating on me. I started to move his hand off my waist when he spoke again.

"You are tired, yet you refuse to sleep." He'd said against the top of my head.

"I'm hot and thirsty and kinda weirded out." I mummbled.

"You asked me not to leave, and so I am here, and now you want me gone?"

"W-what? No, thats not it... Im hot... And thirsty... And I haven't shared a bed with another boy since my cousins seventh birthday party..."

"You wish for water?"

"Yes... I.. Wish... For a glass of water. Please."

His body pulled away from mine, and sweet sweet cold air rushed in between. I felt him turn over, and then he was pulling me up beside him.

"Here you are." He said, pushing the bottle between my lips. "You will drink, and then you will sleep."

I chugged the liquid, my parched mouth relived. In my haste to get it all down, some of it dribbled down my chin, and he wiped it up with a swift move of this thumb over my skin.

"You are done now, da?"

"There's still some left..."

"Good, now take this pill. It will make you sleep."

Where he got the pill and how he could see in the darkness, I will never know, but he took up my hand and dropped the tiny little sleep bomb into my palm. The fact that he didn't give it to me first was irritating.

"Why did you wait for the water to be gone before you gave it to me!" I studied it a while longer, not wanting to look up at him. "It... Like, won't make me sleep forever will it?"

"You think I will save you, then kill you? I will not do that so easily."

"So easily... If I die, i'm going to haunt you."

"You will take the pill and sleep."

"Do we need so many blankets?"

"It gets very cold at night."

"But theres two of us under them all..."

"You almost had frostbite, I would hate for you to be frozen in the morning with no fingers or toes, no matter how funny you would look."

"When can I go home?"

"You will have to sleep first. Take the pill, we will talk when I am less tired."

He took the pill from my palm and popped it into my mouth. The sugar capsil started to dissolve immediately, spreading its nasty sweet and bitter taste all over my mouth. I downed the rest of the water, hoping it would take the taste with it, but no, it hadn't.

"It will work soon, lay down."

"That was cruel." I said, doing as I was told.

"There are far crueler things I could have done to make you sleep."

"Still..."

I closed my eyes, but found myself waiting to feel the medicine's effects. There were far less blankets now, and I was much more comfortable, so I was actually grateful when the haze hit and I could concentrate on that instead of the warmth of the Russian against my back. The wind outside began to whistle, and the house shook around us a bit.

"A storm?" I asked.

"Da." He'd said.

It was quiet again and I was drifting in and out of a very peculiar dream. A nightmare really.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Ivan."

"Ivan waht?"

"Braginski."

"My name is Alfred F. Jones."

"Good. Now sleep."

With that, I fell asleep to the tune of my nightmares, of screams and fire and guns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, feel free to review, tell me what you like, what you don't. Tell me where you see this going, I might not know myself. Or do I?
> 
> Also, I learned some cool facts about hypothermia, frostbite, and even CPR. You could always check that stuff out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred practices good hygiene, dreams, and has himself a rather good and unrealistic pee.

He pulled up a chair, sat down and stared at me. I stared back at him of course, the plush pillows propping me up as I laid in his bed.

"No." I told him flatly.

"You think you have a choice, da?" He looked at me, not changing his expression.

"Dude, you can't make me."

"Oh, I think I can." He replied with a voice filled with scorn.

"Dude, like, no you can't."

"Would you like to see me make you?"

"Bro, it's my body, you can't make me!"

"I will make this very clear to you now." He leaned in towards me, his white hair falling over his dark eyes. "I will not be clawed any more. You will clip your nails, or I will force you to."

"I won't do it again! It was an accident." The resolve in my voice fell flat.

"You have nightmares every time you sleep. It's not something you can control or else you would not be having them."

"Why do we even have to share the same bed!?"

"This is my house and I will sleep in the bed that I own. If you do not want to sleep in the bed then you and your injuries are welcome to sleep on the floor." He looked at the door. "Or you may leave. Whichever you prefer."

"It snowed like, a foot! I can't leave no matter how much I want to."

"43 centimeters, if you must know. So you will be taking the floor then?" His voice was smug.

"Why does it snow so much at the end of June?"

"Why do you answer questions with questions?"

"I don't want to sleep on the floor..." I stated after a moment.

"Good." He threw the nail clippers onto my lap and walked away.

I looked at my nails; there were a bit too long, and overly sharp. I could see why he felt so strongly about my clipping them considering the fact that I had his dried blood under my fingernails, but still... I sat on his bed, under the many blankets he'd thrown back on me in the middle of the night and clipped my nails defeatedly. I'd just finished sweeping the clippings into a pile when he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Clean them." He'd said, giving me a small cloth and a bottle of what I could only assume was something like peroxide.

I looked at him, wondering what he was talking about when he pulled up the back of his shirt.

"Oh geez! Sorry!"

"Just clean them. Who knows where your hands have been."

I dumped the cleaning stuff onto the small towel and gently wiped at the many crescent shaped puncture wounds decorating his back.

"So... What color are your eyes exactly?"

"Purple."

"Really? Oh my god that is so cool."

"How did you not notice by now?"

"I thought they were like... black or something..."

"How do you mistake purple for black?"

"How can you see in the dark? How can you like... Fight a bear or build a rocket or.. um... What else do Russians do? How do you drink Vodka like it's water?"

"Have you finished yet?"

"No..."

"Your mouth works harder than your hands."

"Oh, like you add your two cents! You wear scarves and trench coats in the house! And also... Uh... Are you even a real doctor? You're probably not even a real doctor!"

"I am all you have."

I rubbed his back down, probably more than necessary, and contemplated what he said. Surely Ivan wasn't all I had... I knew I still had all the people back home.

"Thats not true. I have my parents and friends and stuff..."

"Not here."

"But I won't be here forever."

Ivan got quiet, and so did I. I went over each wound individually, taking in the texture of his skin, the curve of his bones... The way the tiny white hairs on his lower back stood up when I touched his bare skin with my finger tips.

"Why do you wear the scarf all the time?"

"That is not your concern."

"You said I was gonna be here awhile, so you might as well tell me now."

"I hope you will not be here that long."

"You sleep practically naked!"

"No."

"Dude, you didn't have a shirt on last night. That's how I managed to claw the fuck out of you, duh."

"I was giving you the body heat you needed to live."

"It was hot with you under all the blankets!"

"You got cold when the storm hit again."

"Stop with all the logic!"

"Are you done yet?"

"Oh, yeah... I'm done." I dropped the rag and bottle into his lap. "There ya go."

He sat on the bed for a while and I leaned back and watched him. He was bent over looking at his hands, his long scarf draped over his knees... His nose curved down towards his strong coral lipped mouth and white lashes hung over his intense violet eyes.

"Bro, your eyes really are purple."

"Why would I lie?" He hadn't looked up. He'd just sat there, looking very serious and focused, but I couldn't think of anything so important when the rest of the world was impossible to reach. His breath was steady in the quiet space and relaxed me so much that soon I'd closed my eyes and was drifting off into the open abyss of sleep, when I felt the weight on the bed shift closer to me.

"You have changed my plans" He whispered, stroking my hair from my forehead.

"Hm..?" I asked tiredly.

"You are not asleep yet?"

"Mmmm."

"Sleep now." He said while patting my head, then swept the pile of clippings off my lap. He didn't have to tell me twice.

I was immersed in darkness and for the first time in what had seemed like forever I was able to sleep peacefully... Well, until I had another nightmare, but that's besides the point! Each nightmare was a little different, but they all ended the same. I would be jolted awake right before the big unveiling of what it all meant... If any of it really meant anything anyways.

In that particular nightmare I was sitting in a dark circular room, decorated with ticking clocks, maroon furniture placed in the middle of the room, long draping tapestries with rather violent depictions, and a fireplace covered in my family photos. The room had no door... No place for me to escape. I was looking around for an exit, throwing clocks off the wall, and tearing tapestries down when a familiar voice called out to me.

"Stop that Alfred."

I turned to look at the owner of the voice and found black haired guy sat on the couch with a glass of clear liquid in his hands. He looked up at me and smiled slightly.

"We need to talk Alfred." He'd said and patted the spot beside him. I obliged and sat down next to him, and accepted when he offered the glass to me.

"What are you doing, Alfred?" He asked me.

I took a drink, not surprised when it was only water. "I couldn't tell you even if I wanted too." I replied.

"Stop this Alfred."

"What do you expect me to do Guy? I can't do anything!"

"You're lying to yourself."

"No... It's really different now."

"Oh Alfred... You're lying to yourself again. Come here."

He pulled me close to his chest and cradled me, rubbing my hair, and murmured soft gentle words in my ear, in a language I couldn't understand of course, but I knew the feelings behind them anyways. A piercing screech came from behind me and I jumped.

"What was that?" I'd asked.

"You know what it was, Alfred."

"No... No I don't!"

"Stop lying to yourself. It's time you face the facts about what really happened."

"God, I told you I don't know!" The sound came again, and really, I realized, I did know what it was.

"You hear it all the time, Alfred. There's just... More to it now."

Suddenly I was standing in the red snow, facing a valley full of sunflowers. The heat forming behind me started to burn and I was forced to walk forward.

"Guy?" I looked to my side and suddenly he was there.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"Why aren't the sunflowers dead?"

"It's June, Alfred."

"But it's snowing."

"It's a mountain. There's snow on mountains sometimes. "

"If it's snowing why aren't they dead?"

"Why won't you look back, Alfred?" He asked, and I stopped walking.

"Why do I need to look back?"

"You're afraid."

"I'm never afraid!"

"You should be, Alfred. You know that."

"No, I-" There was a gloved hand on my shoulder shaking me, I looked at Guy, and he looked back at me.

"You know what it was, Alfred, and you know that you should be afraid."

"No, stop I-" The hand shook me again, and I turned back to see who it was, but all I could see was the smoke of a fire rising into the sky. I turned in a circle, looking for the person that shook me, but all I could see were sunflowers. The hand was there again, shaking me. I grabbed it and tried to force it off, but it held fast. I turned around to face the person, but they shook me again.

"Wake up!"

I was shaken awake, once again, by Ivan, who'd situated himself over me. I was breathing hard, covered in a cold sweat.

"Ivan..." My fingers were still tangled in his red and white shirt, where I had tried to push him off of me. I sighed in relief and let my body relax, my hands slid down his arms before falling lazily into my lap. I laughed, letting my head roll back, still elevated from his grasp on my shoulders.

"Thanks, dude." I whispered to him, closing my eyes. "Really, thank you."

He was quiet for some time, but soon he laid me back down onto the mountain of pillows and gave my shoulder a gentle pat.

"They will leave you soon I think."

"Everyone has nightmares, Ivan. They'll never go away, but maybe someday i'll actually get to sleep."

"Da." He said simply, growing quiet again.

He'd made no attempt to move from my side, and I smiled at the warmth his body emulated. I felt his fingers brush over my eyelids, then work their way down my cheek and over my lips where they lingered. I opened an eye and looked at him, grinning from ear to ear.

"What the heck are you up to?" I'd said playfully, his thumb resting against my bottom lip a while before turning my to the side.

"Watching you." He'd replied.

"Gosh, now I can't sleep."

"You would only have bad dreams anyway."

We sat there awhile, him watching me and me watching him watch me. His violet eyes scanned over my body, and lingered a bit long at my legs, before returning to my face.

"Don't worry, I'm sure all my boo-boo's will be healed real soon. I get better fast. In fact, I think I should be better by tomorrow!"

"Don't start predicting the future."

"Um... Ivan?"

"Da?"

"Can you... Stop touching my face?"

"Nyet."

"Why not?" I whined.

"I am looking at the cut."

"What cut?"

"Have you really not felt it?"

I wiggled my face around, seeing if I could feel any difference, and I did, of course, but was completely surprised at the slight pain and resistance above my eye. I'd reached up to touch the place, when Ivan grabbed my hand and held it for what seemed like a rather long time.

"Hey, dude?"

"I'm Ivan."

"Yea, I know. Do you got a bathroom?"

"Yes, I have a bathroom."

"I gotta take a whizz, so..."

"You have to use the bathroom?"

"Yea. I do."

He pointed off into some corner of the house.

"It is there."

"I can't see that far."

"You can not see?" He waved his hand in front of my face, and I pushed it away rather violently.

"Shut up! I can see... I just.. have glasses."

"Oh. Yes... I do know that, I just thought they were for reading."

He got quiet again, and I looked at him in disbelief. After a while he looked back at me like I was the dumbest person he'd ever met.

"H-how.. Like... Why... How would you know that?" I asked, bewildered.

His look grew deeper, but after looking at me for a while, I confirmed that I thought he was a creep with a raise of an eyebrow.

"This is outrageous." He declared, before dropping my hand and gesturing to the whole room.

"I can't see any of that!" I practically screamed the words, pointing around the room in an imitation of his earlier action.

"Okay, that is fair. I will give that one to you, but," He pulled the blankets off my body and grabbed my pajama shirt, pulling it up and bunching it into his fist, exposing my stomach and chest.

"Why would I have your clothes, Alfred? Hm? Why would I have a spare pair of frog printed nightwear in your size?"

"Uh..."

"I wouldn't!" He let go of me, causing me to bump my head against the wall. He pulled out a small blanket from the bunch he'd thrown off me... An American flag printed blanket... The one I'd had since my birth.

"Ow. Well, Okay, I just didn't think-"

"Exactly! You did not think!" He'd poked my head rather hard, expressing his distaste.

"Oh come on! I get it. Stop. Stop!" I grabbed his hand. "I gotta pee and your poking is not helping it at all! Stop it!

"Yes... Sorry."

"So like... My clothes and stuff are here?"

"Well... I'd think most of it is here, but I am not sure it is all yours... Unless you like Pretty Little Liars? But I would not judge you."

"Yea... Well it was my moms anyways... But I do kinda like it... A lot."

"Okay, maybe I judge you a little bit."

"God, okay, glasses, bro! I gotta piss like a moose! Can you please get me to that bathroom! Pronto! Mush. PLEASE."

Ivan crossed the room and returned with the glasses. I shoved them onto my face and swung my legs over the bed, Ivan reached for me but it was too late.

"OW, FUCK!"

"Did you not feel that either?"

"Just pick me the fuck up!" I was about to burst and had to grab myself to hold it in. "Fuck take me outside! Just go! GOD." Ivan looped his arms through mine, locked his fingers together on my chest, picked me up, and took me outside. My hands were already in the hole of my pajamas, working on the button to the one in my boxers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't get it!" I was pressed up against Ivan's chest, wiggling and squirming, trying not to piss myself, but unable to concentrate long enough to undo the button. Ivan reached down with one hand and pulled my pj's and undies down with a single tug, freeing my parts.

"Oh god yes!" I'd practically screamed, grabbing my junk and pissing into the melting snow. "Yes! That feels so good! You don't even know!" I'd arched my hips, and thrown my head back, loving the sensation of emptying bladder. When I finally finished I was a panting breathless mess. I laid my head back on Ivan's chest, feeling his heart race under his shirt, and I heard him swallow hard. I opened my eyes, and looked out at the melting landscape.

"You don't know how good that felt." I said, pulling my pj's back up.

"I think I got a good idea." He'd said, picking me back up and heading inside. He practically threw me on the bed before heading over to a door in the upper left corner of the room.

"This is the bathroom." He said, before disappearing inside.

"Okay!" I'd shouted at the closed door. "Thank you!"

It was then that I looked around the room, quite surprised at how not-like-a-mountain-shack it was. The whole house was rectangular, much like a double wide trailer, only, it was the nicest house I had ever been in. The walls were cream colored, with dark wood borders, wide curved windows with cute little curtains, built in shelves, and tasteful paintings strewn around. The floor was also some fancy dark wood, polished to a shine and covered in wax.

The bed that I slept on the last couple of days was boxed in on three sides and elevated about a foot off the ground. It was located in the center of the back wall, and right in front of it was the door outside. Beside the door was a shoe rack, stocked with almost every pair of shoes I'd owned, and a few I assumed were Ivan's. Boots were placed neatly in a row, from tallest to shortest beside it.

I leaned over the edge of the bed, peering past one of the walls. The floor on that side of the room was covered in a white and blue round rug, on it was a dark leather couch, an end table with typical end table things, like a lamp, coasters, papers with Russian writing and a small statue of a sunflower that I'm sure he used as a paperweight, and the eagle bean bag chair from my room. I craned my neck to see beyond the couch and spotted one of my best friends, the T.V. It was a nicely sized flat screen, at least 52 inches, and laid out neatly on a blonde wood entertainment center where all my gaming systems were laid out with all their parts, a remote, and an empty vase.

I looked behind the wall of the bed, wondering what else was there, and found an attached bookshelf stocked with Russian things, all my games, books, movies and two comfortable looking plush white chairs complete with matching pillows. I looked back at the door. There a sleek metal box covered in a few spare blankets, decorative pillows and a dresser.

I looked behind the other wall, but I didn't really find much, just a fishtank with some serious aquascaping, an old damaged piano covered in scorch marks, and another door in the corner of the room, which I assumed to lead to the kitchen. It totally wasn't as cool as the other side of the room, but I wasn't going to tell Ivan that. I looked around the room again, pinpointing everything that was mine.

After a while I was sure I'd seen all of my things, or at least where they were stored, but something felt a bit off. The white plush rug in front of the door seemed familiar, and slightly out of place in the sleek scape of Ivan's home, but it soon struck me. It was the dingy carpet from my room that I pushed under the door so no one could get in while I masturbated... Only it was clean and soft looking now. I heard the door of the bathroom open and looked back at Ivan and pointed around at all my stuff.

"Dude, they took my advice!"

"...What?"

"They stole my stuff!"

"...You... Advised them to steal your stuff?"

"Well... Now that sounds bad. I just schooled them on... Being more American while in America."

"So you told them to steal your stuff?"

"No, I just told they they couldn't be creepy, break into someone's house, and not steal their stuff."

"You're joking with me right?"

"Dude don't give me that look!"

"What look?"

"That one you're making right now with your face! It's all 'Oh, look at me. I'm a Russian guy who lives by Russian ways and thinks you are a STUPID IDIOT, WITH A STUPID IDIOT FACE!"

"W-what?"

"You think you're all badass and shit well... Kiss my ass."

"What just happened...?"

"You were judging me!"

"You told kidnappers to steal the stuff in your house! How can I not?"

"That guy was creepy and like... Did weird things and shit... So, it would have been weird if he left without taking my shit! Like, what happens if he come over again? Well obviously he isn't breaking into my house to steal my stuff, or stalking me at school to get my house key! NO! HE WANTED ME! SO, WHY NOT OFFER UP A TRADE? ALL MY AWESOME AMERICAN SHIT, IN PLACE OF MY AWESOME AMERICAN SELF, RIGHT? Seemed logical to me."

"He did both."

"He would have anyways."

"How could you know that?"

"He asked obvious questions like, what do you like to eat and read and shit."

"Is that why there was so much... Junk?"

"What? Junk? I like my stuff, thank you so very much!"

"You need to watch what you say to me."

"You sound like my mom."

"You talk to your mother like this?"

"W-what? No!.. Okay sometimes, but only when I'm really upset!"

"Maybe she's happy you're gone."

My eyes might as well have popped out of my head.

"WHAT? WHAT? Excuse me? I'm going to fucking kick your fucking ass!" My screams became louder and I jumped off the bed to give that commie bastard a piece of justice pie, but my knees gave out and I collapsed to the floor in pain, clutching at them. I heard Ivan laugh at me, at my humiliation.

"Did you forget about that?" He asked smugly.

"My mother loves me." I'd said through gritted teeth, fighting back pooling tears. "She fucking loves me!" The floodgates had opened and I was shamefully crying, but I managed to stay quiet. My glasses had started collecting tears and had slowly started sliding off my face, but I concentrated on the arm supporting me, watching it struggle to keep me up... Watched my hand twist into a quivering fist of anger and shame.

"Are you crying?" He asked.

"Fuck off!"

"You are crying."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Ivan knelt down next to me and pulled me up beside him, slipping his arm under mine.

"I am sorry." He'd said, rubbing my back and cradling me to his chest. "I am certain your mother loves you."

"I-I wish I still had nails so I could scratch your eyes out!" I said through streaming tears. Ivan reached around pulled me onto his lap by the thigh, hugging me tight and rubbing my back softly.

"I'm sorry." He said regretfully, stroking my hair hair gently and pressing my face into the crook of his neck. "I really am."

"I hate you." I said, slapping a fist weakly against his back, before breaking down into uncontrollable sobs and hiccups. He held me while I clutched at his shirt, kneading it in my fists, crying against the skin of his neck. "M-my parents t-think I-I'm dead!" I wailed, digging my non-existent nails into his skin.

"Shh." He cooed, hugging me tighter. I cried harder, my tears running down my face and then down his neck. "It will be okay." We stayed like that for a while until I couldn't ignore my nose any longer.

"I need a tissue, Ivan." I said through sobs.

"Uh... Yes..." He gently pushed me from his lap, placed me on the floor, and grabbed a box of tissues from a draw in the end table. I grabbed the tissues when he offered them to me and blew my nose a couple times.

"My head hurts too..." I looked up at him, my watery blue eyes pleading.

"Uh... Yes." He said again and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging only to disappear into the doorway I was sure led into the kitchen. I adjusted my weight and sat on my butt, lifting up my pant leg and observing my injured leg. A yellowing bruise ran across the side of my knee and my ankle bone. I heard the door behind me shut and I looked back to see Ivan returning with a glass of water in hand.

"Take this." He said, dropping a couple of blue pills in my hand, then giving me the glass of water. "I think it will make the pain go away."

"What?"

'The bottle said it was a pain reliever."

"Then why would you say 'I think?' That makes it sound terrible!" I looked the pills over, and saw that 'Aleve' was printed on the gel capsules. I smiled at the thought of the Russian man looking it over, thinking about how simple Americans had to be for a company to have to name their product after what it does. 'Aleve. Makes the pain go away and is much easier to say than Ibuprofen.'

"Dude... Your floor..." I mentioned suddenly, swallowing the pills.

"Da?"

"It's hot."

"Um...?"

"Why is your floor so hot?"

"Hot as in attractive or as in warm?"

"Is the floor made of mahogany?"

"Um, no, it's actually a rather funn-"

"Then its not attractive it's just a floor."

"But you said that the floor was hot..."

"Oh who's not thinking now? You aren't! Fifty-fifty chance, you eliminated an answer and now you're arguing? Russians."

"That's rude, Alfred."

"You said my mom didn't love me."

"No I said that sh- No, let's forget about that. I said I was sorry."

"You know who else said they were sorry?"

"Are we about to fight?"

"Um... I can't win. You'd probably just crush me and feed me to your pet bear."

"What?"

"Do you drink vodka like it's water?"

"What were the pills made out of?"

"My mom loves me Ivan."

"I never said she didn't."

"Yes you did. Accept it. You're a jerk face. And She's probably freaking out right now... She's probably upset because my birthday's coming up soon too and we already ordered my cake.. And got... The invitations... Oh god... What if they use my party list for the funeral list? What if they skip my birthday and just have a funeral?"

"Um..."

"Am I going to die here?"

"Uh..."

"I am aren't I?"

"You are tired, da?"

"Fuck, I am!"

"What?"

"You avoided the question which means you didn't want to answer which means it's hard to answer which means yes!"

"I just... No, you look into things much too closely. You are babbling, and you do that when you try to sleep, so..."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Go to sleep."

"Go away."

"This is my house!"

"You said my mom didn't love me."

"Will you hold that against me forever?"

"Probably... That any any other mistake you make in the future."

"You are joking right?"

"You floor is warm."

"We have been over this."

"I know."

"Why must I go over it again?"

"You never explained."

"What?"

"You're so serious. Why so serious?"

"I's that a reference to something?"

"Batman. I bet they don't have batman in Russia, only communist superman."

"What!?"

"We'll watch it later, just tell me how this floor warms itself up so that I can sleep in peace."

"Pipes."

"What?"

"There are pipes under the floorboards that hold hot water."

"Hm... Not as cool as I was hoping."

"Now you can sleep."

"Oh, didn't know I needed your permission to sleep."

"What has gotten into you."

"A mothers love."

"Okay. I am done! You do your thing and I will do mine!" He got up and stormed out the door to do what ever angry Russians do... Probably drown himself in Vodka and punch a bear in the face... Then tell its cubs that it's mother doesn't love them, Commie bastard jerk face that he is. While I, on the floor, pulled down a blanket and pillow and went to sleep, thoroughly amused and happy until I woke up several times from absurd nightmares that clawed at the back of my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More dreams and a petty fight.

I was sitting on the bed, playing my awesome Pokemon: Fire Red game on my kick ass Gameboy, when I heard a rather loud knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I called out.

"It's Guy!" Came the reply.

"Oh, hey dude, come on in!"

The door opened and Guy strolled in, shutting it behind him and sitting down on the bed beside me.

"Hey." He said.

"Hello." I replied, letting an awkward silence filled the air around us. I just wanted to play my game, and he just... Wanted to be creepy? As usual of course.

"So... What are you here for?" I asked him.

"I am here to talk to you!"

"Um... Okay," I flicked the game off without saving, and tossed it some ways off. "What do you want to talk about."

"Let's talk about you."

"Oh this again. Um.. Okay… I think we have done this before but… Okay. I'm 14, have blonde hair, blue eyes, I'm 5' 11. My hobbies consist of games an-"

" I already know this, Alfred. Let's talk about your feelings."

"Oh..."

"No, it's okay... Let's talk about Ivan. Ivans been bothering you hasn't he?"

"You could say that again!"

"Um...Ivan's been botheri-"

"Figure of speech, Guy. Figure of speech."

"Ah. I see…. So, why does Ivan bother you?"

"Oh I don't know! He's just so... Everything about he just makes me... All irritates inside! I just look at him and wanna... Punch him in his dirty little face!"

"That is a terrible Idea!"

"I know... HE'S HUGE. It's like he eats testosterone for breakfast."

"So, he intimidates you?"

"Does he not intimidate you?"

"I'm sure we would be well matched in a fight, but that's besides the point Alfred. Why don't you like him?"

I contemplated this for a while, mulling over everything I had said and done over the last two or so days. I picked at the stitches in the blankets underneath me.

"I don't know..." I finally admitted.

"Is he mean to you?"

"Not especially."

"Does he treat you bad?"

"Not completely."

"Does he hit you?"

"Not...really… But he said my mother didn't love me… Which is a big deal because she does!"

"I know. That was wrong of him. Does he feed you?"

"Um... No... No he has not. I have not eaten anything yet!" The realization hit me surprisingly hard.

"Are you hungry?"

"Well...Not really. But food is food..."

"Then why do you hate him?"

"Why do you ask questions I don't have the answer to?"

"Because you do know them." He looked down at his watch. "Oh gosh, we are going to be late!"

"Late for what?"

"Oh, you know, Alfred. That thing." He got up and opened the door to the hospital. "Come on."

I followed him through the door and into the hospital hallway. The hall was long and had to many odd colored tiles. I looked through the windows of the operating rooms we passed by, and saw all the scenes from the first Rugrats movie. Except in the last room where I saw the cover of the book Moby Dick, which was weird because i'd never read the book. After taking a few sharp, unnecessary turns we came to a set of white double doors . Guy stopped at them and looked back at me, his wet black eyes filled with mock excitement.

"We're here." He said, before pulling the doors open and pushing me inside.

Guy walked forward to a rail guard, and leisurely leaned on it.

"Isn't it beautiful, Alfred?"

I walked forward and stood beside him. We were on a platform above a room much like the radioactive treatment plant from the Simpsons, only there were astronauts too.

"So... Russian astronauts that deal with radioactive stuff?"

"Yes, but the American side is over there." He pointed off the the right, and I saw a shopping mall with cowboys at a McDonald's drive through.

"Oh... Well, it's nice to know that we get along well enough."

"Yes it is. Now jump into this vat of radioactive goo, please."

I looked down below us, to the area he was pointing at, and saw the glowing green slim.

"You think I can make the jump?"

"Sure you can. It's only six or seven kilometers."

"Oh... That seems easy enough." I replied, and jumped into the vat of goo below. When I emerged I was much the same, and looked up to see Guy looming over me.

"Now you can be a superhero."

"Did I get superpowers?"

"Probably not."

"Oh..."

"Well, get out."

"Okay." I jumped out and slid down the side of the goo tank. When I reached the bottom, Guy smiled brightly at me.

"Look! Everything has become better!" He pointed behind me, and turned around to see that Ivan was standing there.

"...Hey you." I said.

"Hello, Alfred..."

"So... How's it going?"

"It's fine, thanks... You?"

"It's good."

I couldn't think of anything to say, and apparently neither could Ivan. We all stood there, in the weird hospital lab thingy, looking at eachother. Guy stepped closer to us, and took us both by the shoulder.

"So," He said. "You guys wanna make out?"

"Sure." Ivan replied, turning to face Guy, Guy turning to face Ivan, me in between them. They stepped closer together, wrapping their arms around each other. Then they began to kiss. I tried to get out from in between them, but I was held fast by a number of hands, cowboy and astronaut, pushing me back into the human homo sandwich that was Guy's and Ivan's smacking tongue laden lips.

l woke up a shaken mess. Ivan and Guy... Kidnapper and keeper... Making out... With me in between. That was probably one of the most horrifying things I have ever dreamt of, and it was hard not to think about latter in the day. I sat up, noticing that I was in the bed, and not on the floor where I had originally fallen asleep.

Light was streaming through the drawn curtains, spilling out onto the floor boards, but the absence of my glasses turned it all into a horrible white bler.

"Ivan…" I called out, after feeling that he wasn't in the bed with me. I waited for a response, but none came. "Ivan!" I called out louder, thinking he was off in the kitchen or something finally getting me some grub, but to no avail.

I waited for a while, wondering if he stepped outside, but it was such a long boring wait that I eventually fell asleep again.

My Dreams were filled with Guy and Ivan touching each other with enthusiasm… Kissing each other with vigorous tongues. They were on top of each other like animals, rolling over every surface they could, fighting for dominance. They grasped at the entrance to each others pants, rubbing each other's body's through clothes with desperate fingers. Their breathing grew heavy, and their movements slowed. Their eyes were glazed over with lust, there lips where swollen, red, and glistening.

Ivan was on top of Guy, straddling his hips and looking down on him with a flushed face. He leaned down and licked the nape of Guy's neck, rolling over his skin with his tongue. Guy pushed his hips up into Ivan's and Ivan pushed him back down. A moan escaped Guy's lips as Ivan slowly nipped at his neck and tailed lower. Ivan reached up his shirt, moving his fingers slowly over the curves of his stomach, before playing with his hardened nipples. Their breathing grew erraterat and Guy moaned as Ivan started grinding him through his pants.

Guy steadied himself on Ivans shoulders and started grinding back, his lover back arched and his nails dug into Ivan's skin. Ivan reached up to lick and nibble at his ear, then he started at the buckle of his pants. Guy let himself drop form Ivan's shoulders and watched as Ivan's nimble fingers pulled his pants off him. It was weird seeing Ivan on top of the older man, and the older man sighing and moaning under his touch, but the weirdest part of it all was that I enjoyed watching it.

Guys shirt was pulled off, his arms above his head, his pants hanging from around his ankle. His face was red, his lips were parted, his eyes were lidded and his breathing came out in hot labored pants. Ivans breathing Mirrored his, and he sat above Guy, looking down on him in dazed wonder, almost amazed at what was happening… But only for a few short moments. Ivan scanned over Guys tone body with his eyes, taking in the bulge below his boxers, the heaving of his chest, the red blush across his olive skin…

Ivan rubbed his knee against Guy's groin, making him bite his lip to suppress a desperate moan. Guy reached up and pulled Ivans shirt off and ran his hands up Ivans bare sides, over his shoulders, and stopped at his neck. They looked in eachothers eyes, then Guy pulled Ivan in and they kissed, slowly, nibbling and biting. Ivan stroked his length through the thin fabric, and muffled his moans with his mouth, before reaching in to touch it directly.

Ivans mouth pulled away to whisper in his ear.

"Alfred…" He said in a low voice.

Suddenly I was looking up into Ivan's lust filled violet eyes, my arms wrapped around his neck. My lips felt like they were on fire from the way he kissed me, and his hands stroked the place where only I had touched before. He was on top of me, shirtless, and I was under him, completely nude except for the blue jeans that hung like a heavy weight around my ankle, and the thin fabric of my boxers that could easily be taken off. My mind was numb, it felt hazed and everything seemed white. My ears started to ring and I thrusted up into his grip. I felt his fingers pull at my hardened nipples, and I whined in desperation. I wanted to cum so badly… But Ivan kept teasing me, rubbing the underside of my head, pulling at my foreskin, his large hands gripping my penis… I couldn't take it. My mind was going into overload, my eyes were filled with floating flicks, and my ears where ringing…. I was so close...

I opened my mouth to beg him to let me cum…

I woke up with at start. My body was hot, covered in sweat, and my breathing was erratic. I sat up in the bed, and peeled the covers off my legs. Sure enough, deflating morning wood and a lovely little wet spot where there to meet me. The dream started with Guy and Ivan… And ended with Ivan and myself… It was a very discouraging situation, one that hadn't happened since the time I had a similar dream about my best friend… But really there wasn't much I could do about the whole situation except calm down and sneekly clean myself up.

I decided right then and there that if Ivan was going to unconsciously ruin my life, I would pointedly ruin his until he sent me home. Home to my parents who did in fact love me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alfred has some feels and does his laundry.

I was content in my decision to completely ruin Ivans life, but I was at a complete loss when it came to washing my pajama bottoms. I had no idea if there was even a washer and dryer here, or if I was going to have to wash my clothes by hand. Or worse, draw the water from a frozen lake outside. Really, burning the things was becoming an appealing idea, and my healing leg and feet were a problem for walking, but I wasn't about to let Ivan know any of my weaknesses... Even if it came to washing my own cloths. Or worse. Cooking my own food. Or even worse than that! Being nice.

I pulled the covers over my body and called out Ivan's name a few times to see if he was in the house, but was a little disappointed when I got no response. I called out again, just to be sure, then slowly swung my legs off the side of the bed to get up. Surely with all that sleeping I would of been fine, but when I put pressure on my leg, it hurt like ram horn in the ass. My feet didn't seem to be a problem, and my other injuries seemed fine too, but the healing bruse on my leg and ankle hurt. I thought of what Ivan would say if he had to wash cum out of my clothes and cringed. What if he didn't care? What If… What if I wanted him not to care?

Of course I knew that was a bunch of bull and that if I wanted him to feel emotional pain, I would have to be my own man and stick it to him good. And not like a pixie stick either. Or even a Chick'o stick. More like a stick stick. One with spikes on it. And it would scratch the fuck out of him and he would be like, "What the hell dude, your stick just scratched me." And I would be like, "I fuckin' know. Thats when you get when you mess with me." Then pound my chest like King Kong. I knew how all of this worked.

You have to exert your dominance over everything. You had to claim what was yours, even if it wasn't really yours. Cause thats what men do. I took a deep breath and, leaning on my good leg, made a start for the bathroom. The floor was warm under my toes, which sort of distracted me. The small journey shouldn't have been as hard for me as it was, but I guess laying in bed for almost four days, coupled with being a lazy shit can really get to you sometimes. When I finally got to the closed door I gave it a firm knock, hoping that if Ivan was inside he couldn't hear my excessive panting. After a while of impatiently leaning on the door I opened it and stumbled inside.

The room was small, cosy and awkwardly shaped. Like a short L flipped over. The floor was a caramel colored granite, with black granite placed every few spaces. The entire back wall was one large window that looked out over rolling hills that fell into a valley of sunflowers, all dusted with snow. The entrance was only a bit wider than my arm span. On my right was a white tiled counter fitted with a bowl shaped sink and a faucet attached above it to the wall.

Small hand towels were neatly folded and placed on either side of the sink, a peach colored bar of soap sat on a small wooden soap holder next to it. Shelves were built into the wall, and among Russian labeled products, I could find my own. Bottles of hair gel, cheap cologne, Crest toothpaste, my hair brush. All of it was there, all my things neatly lined up along side his. The guys who took me really left nothing behind. Even my toothbrush was there, leaning up against his, their bristles touching… I moved it away quickly. The only intimate relationship my toothbrush was going to have was the one with my mouth.

I looked over the products, picking things up and touching them, trying to speak the Russian words on all the jars, then opening them and smelling the contents of each one. Every drawer was opened, every object touched, and every openable object opened. Nothing was safe from me. Not even Ivans privacy. I would not only find every flick of dirt he had, but I would do it under the cover of a sweet happy face that was just 'exploring' its new 'home'. It was all a darned perfect happening.

When I was done assaulting Ivan's things and moving them around to different places, I turned around and contemplated what to do next, when I realised I was still prancing around in my soiled pj bottoms. I turned around and was getting ready to hop onto the counter and wash my jammies by hand when another door reflected in the bathroom mirror caught my eye.

It was around the corner, which would have been harder to see if the bathroom mirror had been a normal size, but shurly Ivan wasn't vain. Probably. What really lead my eye to it was my clothes hamper beside the door overfilled with all my dirty clothes. I staggered over to it, almost forgetting about my hurt leg. The bathroom floor was warm and clean. The room was quiet, and the couple of steps I took echoed loudly.

I touched the clothes on top, rubbing them gently between my fingers, remembering my mother. I used to watch her do the laundry, and suddenly I longed to watch her again. Watch her do anything as long as she was near me. As long as she was with me. I wanted to hear her weird deep laugh… The one she did when she was really happy and got the double chin. I held back my tears, knowing that I wouldn't be staying with Ivan much longer, and opened the door.

Sure enough, it was the laundry room. There was a window on the right, letting in the white gleaming light from the world outside, framed by a small lace curtain. The washer and dryer were sleek and new looking, stacked one on top of the other with front opening doors, all in a pretty blue color. Under the window was a table where my cloths sat immaculately folded, and a couple of bottles and boxes of what I could only assume were laundry detergent. I looked at all my clean folded clothes laid out on the table. It was great! I could wash my cloths and take a bath while the machine did all the work! Two birds with one stone!

I slowly undressed, thinking about what my mother would do when she cleaned my dirty clothes as a kid. She would alway spray my grass stains with soap, right? I thought that if I put a little bit of the wet soap directly onto the spot that it would just come out easily. So I did just that. I picked up all the bottles of soap stuff, looking them and their floral patterns over, wondering what one to use and how much of what to put in. I finally decided to use one of the boxes filled with a white powder and a few drops of the liquid stuff so that he wouldn't feel the difference when he picked it up next time.

I laid my jammies out on the table and immaculately applied half a scoop of the white stuff with a few drops of the pink stuff directly onto the crotch of my pants and boxers, not bothering to apply it on the inside, knowing that the water would pick it up and wash it all out later. Then I threw all my cloths into the washer and hit a couple buttons until it started up.

I was so incredibly proud of myself for doing my own laundry that I decided to go through all of the rest of Ivan's stuff in the bathroom, and then take a nice long relaxing bath to celebrate. I went back into the main bath aria to exploder even further. After shutting the door with a rather hard slam, my attention was directed up above me to a long mirror spanning the length of the wall, set at a rather odd angel. You couldn't see anything from it, and I pushed it out of my head after deeming the man who built the house a complete idiot.

There was nothing but magazines on the toilet, so I skipped them and went further in. After you get past the laundry room the place opened up quite a bit, and the view outside was really humbling. It was really weird walking around the room with a limp leg while naked, looking through a strangers stuff. To make the situation even weirder there was huge window for a wall, but considering the fact that no one was around to see… I could see why Ivan liked it. The ability to let your junk out freely in nature with no cops to prance your naked ass home was a really nice change.

The only problem was… There seemed to be no bath or shower. A bit after the toilet the floor just fell away. I was wondering if there was some secret compartment you had to enter to get the the baths when I got a bit closer to and discovered that the floor was there, it was just a lot lower. You had to go down five marble steps just to get down to it, and then there was still no actual bath. There was a tiled round hole in the ground centred in front of the window, which looked remarkably like a bath… Only imbedded into the floor. I mosied on over to it, walking around it a but, looking for a way to start the water, but there were no handles or anything. There was a sheet of metal on the ground, and after a few nudges with my toes I finally got it to flip over. It was actually a lid, and under it was an array of buttons.

I got down on my hands and knees, being mindful of my gimpy leg, and looked intently at them. They were each labeled in russian, but under them was a white piece of tape serving as an 'English' label and a marker. Only a few were actually labled. It was nice that he took the time to do all of that, while leaving a bit of mystery to it all. I was great at puzzles. There was only six buttons in the whole thing, and the only two labeled were 'Hot' and 'Cold'.

I pressed both buttons, yet nothing happened , so I used deductive reasoning to push every single button until something did happened. Eventually cold water started to spill out of the sides of the tub, only to be washed down the drain. I pushed the button next to is, and the water immediately stopped. Obviously these were on and off, but I decided to label then 'YES' and 'NO', just to be a bit of a dick.

Near the window was a plug, and I leaned over to grab it when I saw that the bottom part of the window could be opened. I crawled over to it and undid the latch. The window easily slid over, and cold air rushed into the room. My nether regions protested greatly, and I quickly shut the window, curiosity completely fulfilled.

I threw the plug into the drain and hit the 'YES' and 'Hot' buttons, and soon hot water was filling the deep tub. I got really excited and grabbed my bathroom things, taking a few of Ivan's too. He'd never know if I didn't use much, and they were really nice… So, I took them all to the tub and placed them side by side along the edge of the steaming water.

I dipped my hand into the water and it burned like hell. I figured this was a good time to dumped in half a bottle of lavender scented bubble bath that my mom gave me when I was twelve. She gave it to me for my growing anxiety problems at little meaningless things. After that I hit the 'Cold' button and hoped for the best. When the tub was almost full I eased myself in, my bruised leg first, and felt the overly warm lavender scented water rise over my body. I was hopeing that the scabs on my feet could withstand the heat. When I was touching the bottom I hit the "NO" button and turned the water off. I fully relaxed for the first time in a long while.

I let out a long tired sigh, suddenly feeling overly tired after doing a long twenty or so minutes of absolutely nothing. I imagined Ivan sitting in in the tub, probably in the exact same spot too. His back hugged by the curve of the tub walls, his arm resting on the side next to the panel ready to push any buttons if need be, his head lulling back just a little… Just like mine.

I sat up straight, thinking about just how large Ivan truly was. The water rose up to my neck, but on Ivan it probably only hit his lower chest. I leaned back again, floating and thinking about the mysterious Ivan. What would posses a person to build a house in the woods with a really fancy bathroom? All alone with nothing but bears and Russian winter's to keep you company? That would really suck balls, but if Ivan did it… There must have been and even suckier suck reason behind it all. If he was sain.

I fingered the marble beside the tub, watching as it started to glow from the moving sun behind me, my body casting a long shadow over the frothy bubbles. I looked back up at the room above me, glowing gold with the sunlight reflecting off the walls and floor. The large mirror I had given little thought about was showing reflections of the view outside. Rolling hills and snow dusted sunflowers… The whole room looked like a giant glowing sunflower… It felt like a sunflower… It smelt like a sunflower... I felt like I was in a glowing crystal palace… A crystal palace on fire! Why the fuck was it so fucking hot?

I was pulled from my daze violently, looking over the buttons again to let in a bit of cold water, but realised the tub would over flow. The warm air was causing panic to pool in my gut, which only made me testy.

"What the hell am I thinking!" I yelled angrily. "This place smells like lavender, not sunflowers! Do sunflowers even have a smell?" I slowly got out of the tub, feeling light headed from my unnecessary shouting. "Oh my god why is it so hot." I crawled on my hands and knees and pressed myself against the cold window. The air was hot, humid and smelled like bleach and lavender. My skin was warm and flushed, but my bare back pressing against the glass was cool and growing cooler. I started to fan myself and yelled out to Ivan.

"I know you're not here, but could you please some how turn on an air conditioner? I'm dying here!"

My breathing quickened, and I was growing angrier. I started to yell out curses, cursing Ivan, cursing Guy, cursing my own situation… Then It all hit me… It hit me really hard… I knew that I was assaulted, kidnapped, separated from my family, and taken to another country… But until that moment, when I was sitting in the silence with my naked skin pressed against the glass of a window facing a mountain side, with the air growing hotter and the walls glowing golden, looking at a bathroom I had never seen before… Full of stuff that didn't belong to me… Knowing that my things probably didn't belong to me anymore… I broke. I just… I just started to cry, and once I started I couldn't stop.

My words started to overflow, my feelings became unbearable and I screamed my sorrows into the silence for only the walls to hear. My mother was gone, My father was gone… Heck, I even missed my twin brother who never seemed to be home… He probably didn't miss me anyways. I brought so much trouble to the family… Maybe Ivan was right… Maybe they were glad I was gone… It would be a perfect family with the enigma that was me gone… The realization hurt… Hurt more than anything had ever hurt me before…

It was like someone had taken my heart in their fist and squeezed it, and no matter how much I begged them to stop they wouldn't. They just pulsed it when it shouldn't of been pulsed, grasping it harder and harder until the pain spread over my whole body and my guts threatened to leave if my heart didn't burst first.

So I wailed into the empty house, screamed my hatreds and my sorrows into the humid air until my voice was hoarse and my body trembled. Telling Ivan how much I hated him, how much I hated Guy, how much I missed my family, having my own bed, going to school, the ability to walk... Telling him how much my family really did love me… Telling him how much I didn't believe that… Confiding every inch of my heart break to a man who wasn't there… Sitting in his bathroom crying out the last of the water in my body, with my back against his window, with overly hot air that smelled like chemicals and lavender… And my shame…

I spent what felt like hours crying… Crying until I couldn't talk. Crying until my head broke into a splitting ache. Crying until I wezzed and gasped for breath. Crying until I had to clutch my aching heart and rock myself back and forth… Crying until my nose started to run. Crying until I couldn't cry anymore. And after it all… After I was coming down from the emotional impact... And my breath started to come back… And my body felt lighter… I realised I could just open the window. I realised… That this moment… No. These moments… These kinds of moments… Was what this place was made for. I decided that this place was built for me… That these walls were built as good listeners to help ease me… Even if they weren't, because obviously they weren't, I would pretend they were, and go about my life being endlessly angry at Ivan for not stopping something that had nothing to do with him… For not stopping something he had no idea about.

After a while I was able to calm down. I dipped my hand into the tub and wiped my face with the water, feeling how much cooler it was after all that time had passed... But I opened the window anyways. I sat there for a while, reveling in it's cold feeling on my hot face. The cold air on my hot body… On my hot emotions… Cooling my very being down. When my skin had become as numb as my mind I finally slipped back into the tub, it's waters significantly warmer than the air now.

I opened all of Ivans jar's, used a bit of all his products, mixing them with mine… No. His newest ones. I mixed them with his newest products, and then I used them on my body. I would only be using Ivan's stuff from now on. I would only be using Ivan. Every thing would be Ivan… And I was going to destroy him… I was going to use him, and I was going to use him well... Use him slowly… Because there was nothing else for me to use. There was no other way for me to feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you wish.


	6. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred nearly kills himself because he's not very smart, and also decides he's going to ruin Ivan's life.

I was in the middle of washing my hair, contemplating everything that had just happened with much seriousness. Had I really just decided to let Ivan have all my stuff? Why the hell should Ivan have anything? I'm just as much a victim, if not more! Most definitely more! Ivan should feel grateful for getting to be the hero! Here I am, all distressed and injured n' shit, and he's out telling people their mothers didn't love them and fighting Polar Bears! Like, What the fuck! I deserve all the things!

I stopped scrubbing my hair and really concentrated on my thoughts. I really did deserve all the things as momentary collateral, but it's not like Ivan kidnapped me and put me up in some Isolated mountains… Right?... But Ivan wouldn't do that, he's a pretty stand up guy… I think… He has nice things… And he seems to be a mountain man.. But…

I looked up at the mirror that reflected the view.

"Oh. My. God. It all makes sense now!" I screamed, quickly standing up. "That fucker!" I threw my sopa covered hands to the ground and projected my body from the tub, my legs coming up too fast, causing me to stumble and fall against the marble steps hard. I wanted to cuss, but the breath was knocked out of me, and I felt shampoo trickle down my forehead. I couldn't breath and was fighting for air, a practice that was occurring far too often. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I was finally able to suck air back into my lungs, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, making the problem worse by getting soap in my eyes.

I cussed up a storm, fumbling around the ground, sliding this way and that in my attempt the get back to the tub. My eyes were producing water again, spilling over in their attempt to help free me from pain. I was slapping at the floor and crawling around aimlessly in a panic, trying to open my eyes every now and again to see snippets of information, when I heard my name being called out.

The voice was muffled but I knew it was Ivan. My alleged savior. My alleged hero. My captor. My keeper. My kidnapper, Watching me through the glass of the window, calling out to me in my hour of need, but I don't really care right then, and my eyes didn't either.

He was closer, and I was more frantic than ever to make my way back to the tub.

I could hear the snow crunch under his weight, I could hear his heavy breathing and the thud against the ground next to the window I'd opened. I scrambled faster, thinking about how he probably wanted my body and was getting a great show.

'Alfried, stop moving!" He yelled, his accent thick with every word.

I opened my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, and that I wasn't his toy that he could do whatever the hell he wanted with, when I felt the ground fall away from my hands. I went face first into the tub, my hands hitting the bottom hard, sending a shock up my arms and down my spine. Then my head hit and slid across the bottom, dazing me momentarily. My eyes were burning, and soon my lungs were too. I reached up haul myself out, but hit a wall. My panic grew, and I didn't realize it was only the bottom of the tub, but It didn't matter anyways. Ivan was above me, hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me from the water.

"Ivan, my eyes!" I wailed when I felt the water roll off my back. I reached up and clawed at my eyes, but he pulled my hands away. The bath water had only made the problem worse, and rubbing my eyes didn't help either. Ivan was quick, really quick. He pulled me to his cold chest and ran for the sink. I felt snow fall on my back from his glove as he pulled it off with his teeth. He turned the water on, and started to wash my eyes for me, his hand still cold under the warm water.

He bent over me, sliding his other hand under my chin to lifted my face up. I told myself I had no other choice but to look into his eyes. He was mesmerizing. I felt weak under him. His hand under my chin, and his chest against my back made me feel caged and protected all at the same time. His hand and the warm water running over my face, coupled with his intense violet eyes staring into mine…

I could feel my body trembling. My fingers against the countertop shook, my breathing hitched in my chest, my lips quivered, and my knees locked. The hairs on my lower back rose when I felt Ivans fingers tighten around my jaw, pressing into my throat. A stray gloved finger pressed against my lower teeth, opening my mouth and moving my lip to the side. I could feel my butt pressing into Ivan's lap… His warm lap…

His wet fingertips slowly trailed down the curve of my cheek and the corner of my lips. They lingered there a moment, then Ivan's eyes tore from mine. I looked up into the mirror. My eyes were huge, red rimmed, and teary. Water droplets slid down my cold paleing skin, my hair was dark and stuck to my face. The tip of my nose was red,and my cheeks were flushed.

Ivan's black gloved hand cradled my chin, his finger clashing with the white of my teeth and the red of my tongue behind it. It didn't feel like I was looking at myself. I felt like I was watching some sort of erotic movie. Ivan was too perfect, too sincere in his actions… He stood over me, his ashen hair falling over his violet eyes, his lips pressed into a firm line, his face completely serious and focused.

I watched Ivan's hand curve around my jaw in the mirror and slowly trace its way down the sides of my neck, rounding back up to touch the outline of my spine. His lips parted and I felt his warm breath against my skin as he leaned a little closer. His hand came back around, sliding over my shoulder and collarbone, feeling the strain of my every muscle and every dip between my bones. Then his fingers went down even lower. He stepped forward, pressing the whole of him against me, and spreading his fingers out to feel the softness my back. He pressed down into my spine and began to run his fingers over my shoulder blade, and then down further where they bounced over my ribs. I saw myself sputter forward under his touch. I felt my back arch, and the hairs raise even more. I heard myself realise some inaudible noise, of protest or longing I didn't want to know.

His finger slid into my mouth and pressed itself against my tongue. His hand came to the dimples of my back, just above my tan line, and I felt his fingers tremble. I didn't see myself in the mirror. It didn't feel like I was looking at myself, but I felt what was happening. I felt him press himself against me, and I felt when I pressed back… But surely… I wouldn't of done such a thing… Surely.

I slid my hands over the countertop and pulled myself away from him. My head was forced down a little, and I had to look up see. Ivan's head shot up and looked at our reflection. His eyes grew wide and his fingers fell away from my mouth, his hand that trembled against my lower back moved away, and together we stood there and stared into the mirror, before finley he gently bent me back over the sink and started to wash the soap from my hair.

Basicly Ivan finished bathing me, covered my wet body in a towel and pushed me into the living room. I looked back at the closed door, still a bit stunned by the whole event, but making the slow trek back to the bed helped me straighten it all out.

Ivan was a soul sucking vampire who could use his eyes to make anyone and anything want him. That was the only rational reason I could think of. Why else would I want another man to touch my body in ways that… That I'd only ever touched...

I flopped onto the bed, taking in the warmth of the whole room, and snuggled into the covers. I could smell Ivan on the sheets, and was almost asleep when I heard the bathroom door click shut. I was instantly awake. My mind was reeling with questions, but when I heard his boots against the floor as he slowly walked over to me, my resolve to ruin his life burrowed itself deep into me.

I was going to let this man, the one who kidnapped me, think everything he wanted to. To think he had power over me, to think I wanted him, to think I needed him, but slowly, very slowly, I was going to make him go crazy. Starting right then.

I could feel Ivans looking at my bare back, probably trailing down to look at my hairless legs and my awesomely firm and round ass, and I couldn't blame him for, but he'd gone a little far with the whole kidnapping thing. I decided to put on a little bit of a show, just a small one to make him think. I moved my leg up, just a little bit to show off the inside of my thigh.

It was quiet for a really long time, and for a while I could only hear my steady breathing against the covers, but eventually I heard Ivan release a tired sigh. He came closer to the bed and covered my ass with the blankets before trying to shake me awake.

"Alfred." He called softly, touching my now warm back with his cold hand. "Alfred." He called again, giving my side a harder shake.

I let out a small whimper and sat up slowly, making sure that the towel and covers fell down again and looked up at Ivan. I rubbed my eyes and let my hands flop into my lap.

"What?" I said drearily.

Ivan kept his face straight, but the pink that slowly pooled in his cheeks gave him away.

"Nothing… I was just wondering if you were concerned with the status of your sleeping bottoms."

"My… My what?" I said, looking back at the bathroom.

"I-I cleaned them for you and put them back in the wash."

"Oh shit!" I yelled, standing up and running awkwardly for the bathroom door, grabbing my towel as its slipped off my butt. "You weren't supposed to do that!" I yelled again, finally making my way to the laundry room. Ivan was right behind me, and I turned to him and demanded he turn the washer off and unclean my pants. Surprisingly he complied and turned the washer off, and I pushed past him and pulled my pants from the barrel.

Ivan let out a small chuckle and said, "I can easily dirty them again, but I can't do anything about the damage you've done to them."

I turned on Ivan, holding the pants stretched between my hand.

"You're telling me this happened and it still didn't clean them!"

"Yes…" Ivan said with an embarrassed cough. "I had to clean them by hand."

"Oh god get out!" I screamed, pushing Ivan's unmovable form towards the door. "You can't just… Oh god just go back to wherever the hell you were before you washed my eyes out and then… Oh my god leave!"

Ivan let out a small amused laugh and ruffled my hair. "I wasn't done anyways." Then he pushed a pile of clothes my way and left.

I slumped against the wall and slid down. "Oh god how did this happen!" I asked, stroking the crotch of my pants, "How did I breach you out? Oh…" I cradled the sopping wet, soapy frog printed pajama bottoms against my chest. "Oh…" I pulled them away and gently touched the crotch again. "I bleached out the crotch of my pants… And the cum didn't even come out… Oh god!" I shot up, moving away from the wall in despair. "Ivan touched my cum… Oh my god!" I paced around… Looking at the huge white spot against the forest green in the crook of my pants. "I've ruined you…" I looked at neatly folded pile of clothes that sat a few feet from me on the counter thing.

All of this was Ivan's fault. If he hadn't of kidnapped me, my mom would have washed my clothes, and she wouldn't have put bleach all over my crotch. No! This whole problem never would have come about! I would be at home masterbating into a tissue, not sleeping in another man's bed and having odd dreams with sexual encounters… No! I wouldn't be having sexual encounters anyways!

That last bit upset me… I was sexy and everyone wanted me. That's what the real problem was. I was just too damn good looking for my own well being, and no one wants to approach a god. Except Ivan, who apparently was either not god fearing, or thought he was a god and wanted to put me in my place… Or he just wanted to worship me.

That didn't sound too bad… Being worshiped… I threw the bottoms back into the washing machine and hit more buttons. When it started up I threw the towel on the floor and put the cloths Ivan pushed towards me on. This situation wasn't entirely bad… Ivan would see the white spot and have a constant reminder of what lay underneath, and I, on the other hand, would have fun manipulating the hell out of someone until they sent me home. It was simple.

I limped out of the bathroom and looked around the living room. I knew there were two things I desperately needed to do: 1. Make a captive diary journaling all my experiences and feelings during my trial, and 2. Eat some fucking food for once.

I made my way over to the metal thing covered in blankets and opened it up, tossing the blankets to the floor. Nothing worthwhile was in there, well for now. It was mostly my summer clothes, and considering the wheather, I wouldn't be needing them. I got up and made my way to the bookshelf, thinking that the blank paper would be there when I saw my backpack. Missing school was nice, but being held back a grade was unacceptable!

I grabbed the bag and threw it on the table, unzipping it and took out my english notebook. If I was going to be held back a grade I might as well get paid for it! I was going to make a book out of my diary and get shit tons of money, and then mention my English teachers in there somewhere and then she'll be obliged to pass me!

Or If I made money like JK Rowling I just wouldn't have to go to school anymore! It was a perfect win-win scenario. I flipped my notebook to the very last page and titled it, 'American captive: Living under a Russian lord.' but then I crossed it out because it sounded like an erotic book my mom would read. I thought about the title for a good five minutes and decided to call it 'Alfred's makeshift diary' thinking that I would title it something else later on down the road, of course I didn't, but who cares. I thought about what to write, but my stomach protested, so I wrote one line.

Ivan wants my body and I don't blame him one bit, but he needs to learn to worship from a distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred make a list and Ivan makes a move... And then stops.

I don't know what I was expecting when I walked into Ivan's kitchen. Maybe some really fancy shit, like the stuff you see in magazines. No matter the circumstances, Ivan's kitchen was not what I expected at all, and it made me feel really uncomfortable.

The kitchen was long and straight, longer than the bathroom I might add. (Which really Irritated me because that meant that the house was misshapen. How awful is that? Who wants to live in a misshapen house? Ivan does apparently.) The left side was basicly all counters, as was the right side, but a third of the way through the room they stopped. The right side held all the appliances, all except a fridge. After that the room opened up. That aria held the table.

I was surprised that the back wall didn't open up into a huge ass window like the bathroom did. Whatever. Beggars can't be choosers I suppose. I stumbled in clumsily and laid my Journal down on the gray marble.

"Well," I said taking a deep breath. "I might as well get started!"

The cabinets were made of a deep red-brown wood. The front surfaces had carvings of delicate leaves and vines, and then were coated in a glossy finish. Each knob was thickly covered in white paint, and then a sunflower was thickly painted over it in the middle. The floor was the same dark wood that was laid down in the living room area, and just as shiny.

There were cabinets lining the walls above too, and the wall space between the two was tiled with cream and tan tiles. At the very end of the counter was the bread box from my house. I could only hope it was filled with bread considering it was liable 'BREAD' in big black bold letters. On the right was the sink, stove, and dishwasher. Above the sink was a wide window with a white painted sill.

"That window would cool pie perfectly," I thought. "and making pie makes a big mess." I chuckled to myself darkly and continued looking around the room.

Above the stove was a huge stainless steel vent that went through the roof, and between the stove and the vent was a tiled mural of a field of sunflowers. Behind the sunflowers was a setting sun. How swanky. The stove was mostly white with black borders, as was the dish washer. There were a few jars scattered about here and there, as well as a well stocked spice rack near the stove.

I walked all the way down the length of the room to the very back wall looking for the fridge. It was no where to be found.

"Do you not have a fridge?" I asked aloud.

I circled the table and lifted up the white table cloth. The fridge had to be hiding somewhere. I moved all four of the wooden chairs around, picked up the vase in the center, and rounded back over to the sink.

"Where the fuck is the fridge!?" I yelled.

That's when I finally opened all the cabinets. There was Russian food stuff everywhere, and man oh man was there a lot of vodka. (There was some American food under the cabinet were the bread box was, but I was so upset about there not being a fridge that I didn't try to eat right away.)

I wobbled back over to the door, grabbed my journal off the counter, and then went all the way back to the table to tossed my journal on it.

I was in the midst of walking over to the stove when I tripped on a notch in the floor and fell flat on my face.

I grumbled angrily and slowly turned myself over to look at my toes. They were a little red, but fine nonetheless.

I leaned over myself and looked at the notch in the floor. The notch was connected to something that look suspiciously like a door. I really didn't want to open it. In the horror movies, the door disguised as a floor always lead to the crazy guy's torture chamber. I took a deep breath and told myself that I had to open it, not because I was curious, but because I would be able to run away if It really was a torture chamber.

I pulled the door open just a crack, and cold air slipped out. The door was heavy, but easily opened. It must have been used regularly. I took a deep breath and swung the door open all the way, completely surprised when I saw food. Ivan had a thing for things imbedded into the floor it seemed.

I looked the whole thing over. The fridge was at least arm deep, filled with dairy, fresh fruit and veggies. On the very top left hand side was a draw about a foot thick. I opened it and it swiftly rolled out over the fridge. It was the freezer. I had to admit, that was some cool shit.

I shut the draw and grabbed the carton of milk. The first thing I had to do was eat breakfast.

I closed the floor door and looked over that the bread box. The cereal was under that cabinet with all my American junk, so I scooted my booch over to the cabinet and grabbed it. No need to stand up that that, But getting the bowl would be a different story.

I tossed my box of Froot Loops up onto the counter, followed by the carton of milk, and slowly hauled myself up. Then I made my way over to the counter that held the bowls and grabbed one. I poured the cereal and milk in, then grabbed a spoon. I walked over to the table sat down and started eating. It never occurred to me how hungry I was until that moment.

After I stuffed myself pretty good I opened up my Journal and started to make my plan to ruin Ivans life.

"Okay," I said, placing my spoon into the bowl. "what is irritating and annoying." I pondered this for a while and then began to write.

Things that are really Irritating and annoying:

When people put dishes in the sink with food still in it.

When people eat in your bed and leave crumbs.

When people leave their laundry in the bathroom.

When people cook and don't clean up as they go.

When people put empty containers back.

When people move your stuff around.

When people touch your stuff.

When people look over your shoulder when you're doing stuff.

When people dog ear book pages.

When people overly insist on stuff.

When people only talk about themselves.

People who read out loud.

People who eat with their mouths open.

People who make weird noises when they eat.

When people leave discs out.

I couldn't really think of much more, but I knew there would be more when I got going, and surly this would be enough for now. I closed my journal and looked down at my bowl of milk.

"I'm sorry, but your a small price to pay for the journey back home." I said to it in my best English accent. After that, I got out of my chair and put the bowl one the counter. Let him see the milk!

But I did go put the milk carton back into the floor fridge.

I contemplated making a sandwich and eating it in Ivan's bed, but thought against it considering we would both be sleeping in it. I really had nothing better to do than snoop around. I already looked at all of Ivan's stuff in the bathroom, now I had to look at his stuff in the living room.

I wasn't sure where to start. Ivan's bedroom and living room were both the same, which meant I might be able to get some dirt on him, but looking around… Everything was in Russian. I went over the the book case and flipped through a few books, making sure to dog ear them. At any rate, it looked like Ivan had more dirt on me than I could ever get on him.

I looked through Ivan's dresser after that, but it had more of my cloths in it than his. I walked over to his bed. If I had porn, I would hide it under my bed. The only problem was that you couldn't really get under the bed. There was just more draws. I sat down in defeat. I guess I was just going to have to be annoying.

With a big sigh I got up and walked to the T.V. I guess I would have to play a game or watch a movie until Ivan got back from watching little boys take baths. Quite suddenly it struck me that I had Xbox live, and that I could contact my brother Mattie!

I turned the T.V on and booted the game system up, only to be met with a connection error. My hope was short lived. Ivan didn't have internet. He wasn't stupid. He knew that I would cry to my family and tell them where I was.

Suddenly I didn't feel like playing a video game anymore. It was much too interactive. I needed to watch a mind numbing movie. I threw in a documentary recounting all the theories about how they thought king Tut died, and soon I was on the verge of sleep.

A click from the door shutting woke me up, and I looked over to see Ivan taking his boots off.

He looked really tired, and his hair was damp with sweat.

"Hey." I said to him.

He looked up rather surprised to see me there, but his replay didn't take long.

"Hello." He said back.

"I was just watching some educational shit." I said while pointing at the screen.

He laughed a little and started to take his long tan coat off. "That is good."

I watched him for a moment, but then got up and walked toward him.

"You know," I said as discreetly as I could. "my birthdays coming up and I think it would be really great if I had a cake."

He laughed a little and looked down at me. "You're too old for a cake."

"No one's too old for a cake Ivan!" I said, picking up his long scarf and petting it between my fingers while it was still around his neck. Ivan smiled and touched my cheek with his hand.

"If you insist." He said, stroking my cheek. I laughed and dropped the scarf.

"Now I know it's kinda short notice but my birthdays July fourth, and since I don't get to go to my uncles ranch and watch things get blown up, I'd at least like to have a cake!"

Ivan chuckled and pulled off his gloves and leaned his face closer to mine. His breath hit my cheeks and I couldn't help but feel a little happier. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my chest to his. He took a few steps forward and pushed me back over the couch's arm rest.

I looked up at him as he pulled his scarf off and wound it around his hand into a ball. Then he place it in his jacket pocket and sat next to me on the couch.

"I'm afraid i've got some bad news," He said, leaning over me and pressing his lips to my neck. His warm breath tickled, but I didn't mind it very much. "but I'm sure I can make you feel better. Besides, you can have your cake and eat it too." I felt his warm lips move as they started to kiss up my neck and under my jaw. I could feel my body getting hotter, and I trailed my hand down his toned arm.

He licked my neck and I let out a soft moan. I felt Ivan chuckle against my skin. My mind was easy to distract it seemed. I trailed my arm a little lower and felt scratches there.

"I-Ivan, what happened?"

He pulled away just a bit. "Nothing for you to worry about." He said and started to kiss my neck again. Thats when he started to move his hand over my chest, and I got really hot.

"I-Ivan!" I said again, squirming under his touch. "W-What bad news?" I placed my hand over his to make him stop.

"You're so cute." He said chuckling. "Your face looks good when you blush. I really like it when you move around too."

"Ivan!"

"Well," He said, kissing my neck again. "Tell me how many candles to put on top, and then maybe I'll tell you." He moved his hand lover over my stomach.

"F-fifteen!" I shouted, moving closer to the edge of the couch.

Ivan stopped immediately and then pulled away from me.

"Don't… Candles represent the age you're turing?"

"Ya, I'll be turning fifteen!" I said moving away from him.

"That means… You're fourteen."

"Yea.."

Ivan looked at me for a really long time before saying, "You don't look fourteen."

"I know… What's the bad news."

Ivan smiled a bit.

"Well now there's more bad news. It turns out that I've been touching a little gay boy. The other bad news is that your birthday's already passed."

I shot up straight. "What?" I yelled. "My birthdays already passed? I'm already fifteen?"

Ivan looked at his hands in his laps. "Yes," He said before turning back to me. "but now I don't feel so bad for touching you." He pushed me back down and kissed my lips. I tried to yell, but when I opened my mouth he entered it. I didn't know what I was doing, I'd never kissed before, but I was tempted to bite his tongue… Until he put his knee between my legs.

He broke away for a breath and I quickly covered my mouth with my hands.

"That was my first kiss, you ass!"

"It looks like you're going to have a lot of first in a short amount of time." He said, his accent thick with every word.

"My family thinks I'm dead!" I screamed.

He pulled my hands from my mouth. "Oh, it's far more complicated than that, and I encourage you to forget about it for now. They know you're okay, that's all that matters."

I turned onto my stomach and crawled off the couch. I was surprised that he didn't pull me back, but was even more surprised to look back and see a gentle amused smile on his face. I thought about the list I made earlier and how I could use it now to irritate him.

"I say we have my birthday party right now! Cake, explosions, gifts, food, and movies. I overly insist that we do all of that within the next 24 hours!"

He laughed again. "Okay. Lets do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words to fill space because I feel this is needed for the looks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooking of sorts and insults.

Ivan eyed the bowl of milk with remarkable distaste.

"I see you found the fridge." He commented, picking the bowl up and gently dumping the milk down the sink. "Do you not like milk?" He asked again, walking over to the dishwasher and placing the dishes inside with unusual precision. I noted that my bowl and spoon were the only dishes inside, and that he had a particular way he liked the dishwasher loaded. Something I could easily mess up.

"Oh I like milk." I started with a coy smile. "I just didn't feel like drinking it was all. Too sweet for some reason." I hauled myself onto the counter and sat down, making sure to scoot back and rub my butt all over it's clean sanitized surface. Ivan looked positively livid, but he held his tongue. I couldn't help by smile triumphantly, and the urge to swing my legs back and forth was much too strong for someone with weak will like me to resist. The result was satisfying enough, and I could practically see the veins in Ivan head burst.

"I thought you liked sweets. Thats why you wanted a cake so badly, wasn't it?" He opened up a cabinet and moved a few things around. He was in a real pissy mood for some reason, and it came on suddenly too. The milk must have done the trick, and if milk could do that much in such a short amount of time, then the whole list was probably going to get me sent home with a black eye… Or worse.

"Oh, I love sweets, thats why I have a pooch. I work out a good bit -at least I used to- and did sports, but man oh man could I eat. I mean can eat. I can eat everything in your house in a week. I probably will too since I don't have anything better to do..." I looked down at Ivan who had crouched down next to me, and patted my stomach for good measure.

"Oh," He said, pulling out a couple bowls and placing them on the counter next to me. "It looks like im going to have an obese little gay boy to deal with."

I stared at him in utter shock. He reached up and closed my mouth with his hand, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

"I-Ivan," I stammered. "I am not a little gay boy! And I am NOT fat!"

He stood and looked down at me from the corner of his eye, pretending that the bowls were the center of his attention. "Not a little gay boy?" He asked innocently, his smile small and deliberate. "Then what are you?"

If I had met Ivan under any other circumstance his innocent behavior would have fooled me. I probably would have moments of paranoia, but would have been smoothed over by his smile and light hearted manner, dismissing any cruel words as a blunder of the language barrier or a simple joke justified by our different cultures. They say rooming with a friend will ultimately ruin your friendship. This was kinda like that, except Ivan was never my friend, and I had no intention of trying to live peaceably with him.

"Not a gay boy that's for sure! Gay boys like-" I started to explain the likes and dislikes of all the gay people I had ever known when Ivan cut me off by holding up a card with my mother's cursive scrawled over it.

"Is this the cake you wanted?" He asked. "I'm sure it is since your name is on it."

I took the card from his hand and turned it over tentatively, my mood swinging from annoyed and angry, to shocked and heartbroken in a single moment. "Where… Did you get this?"

"From the box with all the other cards. Where do you think I got it?" Ivan's innocent sarcasm smoothed over my skin like the edge of a knife.

I practically tore my eyes from the card to look up at Ivan. "Where… Where is the box?"

Ivan gave me a growingly familiar look and pointed at the bread box some ways to the left of me. It was hard not to smack that satisfied look off his face, but the burning anger in the pit of my stomach couldn't mask the voice in the back of my head that wanted nothing more than to keep my body as pain free as possible.

I slid myself off the counter and made my way over to the box that used to contain bags of pre-cut bread. I gripped the knob gently and pulled the box open, only to see my mother recipe box stuffed inside. I pushed the box out limply, like a cat lazily pushing around a toy, and looked at Ivan for a moment, the card held limply in my hand.

"My mom is going to be so pissed." I said blankly, involuntarily holding the card up a little higher for him to see.

"I know," Ivan said with a bored sigh. "you mentioned that already. A lot actually,"

I lifted the old worn lid and numbly placed the card back inside with all the others, not caring whether I put it under the B's' for birthday or A's for Alfred. "It doesn't matter anyways. It's Mattie's year this year, so we have to eat Mattie's cake... It's easier to make anyways… Sometimes." I fingered the cards inside the box, spreading them out and letting them fall back against each other.

I could feel myself growing evermore sad. The thought of my brother coming home from school and finding the house ransacked, my bloody footprints leading down the stairs from my room with the broken down door and shattered glass, all the way to the kitchen with measuring cups thrown around was hard enough to handle. He was so gentle and delicate that some people hardly noticed he was there at all, under most circumstances. Everyone has their exceptions of course.

I thought about how he probably called the cops first, because unlike me he was smart like that. The cop's probably questioned my parents and asked them why they didn't take action sooner… I could see my parents crying faces… Mathew's crying face… I wondered if any of my friend's cried, or if I was on the news… If anyone cared to search for me.

I didn't noticed it until Ivan stopped me with a firm grip of the shoulder, but I was rocking back and forth, banging my knee against the counter. Ivan's stupid precious counter.

"Okay," I said gritting my teeth and searching through the rest of the cards. "Mattie has, like, three or so different cakes, and since I have no Idea what you have on hand, I guess we'll just have to read them all off and see what we can do." By that time I'd pulled the cards out, even ones that weren't a pastry, and laid them out side by side.

"Why does your brother have so many different cakes?" He asked picking up a recipe for pasta salad, eyeing it with a bit of confusion before turning it to me. I took the card from his hand and threw it back down.

"Mattie has so many different cakes because I broke three of his ribs one time and he had to be flown to this special hospital to deal with it. We were on vacation to Canada to visit family, but we were leaving the day it happened. My parents were so pissed…"

"How did you break his ribs?" Ivan asked, picking more cards up and mumbling the words softly.

"We were like… five or six or something and I may or may not have pushed him off these fifteen foot rocks… It's all really foggy. He swears I pushed him, and I swear that I may have given him a little shove, but he wondered over to those rocks and tumbled down all by himself. The shove and him falling are not related at all. I'd never hurt Mattie… At least intentionally… Most of the time… Either way he got his revenge." I rubbed the side of my face, trying not the feel the scar as I got lost in the old memorie. "Anyway, the point is, while my dad and I were going down to visit the ranch in the states, Mattie had to stay in the hospital where he met this French kid who… I actually have no idea what was wrong with him, hurt pride or something, but that kids mom learned that Mattie didn't get to go down for his birthday and the lady made him a cake and he's never lived it down. So," I continued, lifting up a couple of cards with Mathew's name on them. "Mattie's got about three cake recipes that he changes depending on how he feels. One's a simple white cake that we haven't eaten since we were three. The other is a recipe for some really good pancakes, and the other is this French cake that's really nice. We eat the pancakes a lot though, so we normally eat the french one."

Talking about my brother really lifted my spirit, and I couldn't help feeling a sense of fondness for my brother. I moved closer to Ivan, lifting the card up to show him. "Yea, if you look here," I trailed my finger under the line of French. "You can know what the cake is called. It's says 'Hon hon hon hon' and thats what you eat." I laughed inhumanly loud at my own joke. Ivan pulled the card from my hand and looked it over.

"No, it says 'Lemon sponge with maple and raspberry'. Theres nothing about 'Hons' at all."

I took the card from his pretentious fingers and wiped it off in an exaggerated gesture. "It was a joke, and in all reality we're probably going to be eating pancakes today anyway so…" I didn't know how I was going to end the sentence so I gave an exaggerated huff and poked a few cards. "These are the things I want to eat. They're so bad for you and full of calories and I want to eat them all." I pushed the cards over to him, and put the others away, lingering a bit on the French cake, wondering if my family decided to celebrate anyway.

"It's only a few easy things. I have no Idea what you have, and there's no way we could ever eat all the things I want."

"Oh, what happened to being able to eat my whole house?" Ivan asked, his sarcasm almost as thick as his accent. I slapped his arm playful and smoothed my hand over my stomach.

"You've seen me naked so many times now that you know i'm not fat. I'm tall, blonde, tan, and oh so perfect." I gave a sly smile in his direction and lifted my shirt up, watching as his purple eyes flickered over to me. " You see this here?" I asked, poking the small amount of pudge just below my belly button. "This isn't fat. It's actually a pocket full of gooey icing. You see, i'm a yummy Hot Bun and this here is where I keep the icing. I've been storing it up instead of dumping it all over my hot bod so that I could survive these awful Russian winters. No room for a house in here i'm afraid, but I think your house should be grateful that it can be around my god-of-a-self at all." I posed very deliberately, propping myself up against the counter and stretching my majestic limbs out, so that Ivan could see how heavily I truly was.

Ivan looked down at the cards and smiled innocently, his hair falling over his face in just a way to give it a sinister shadow. "How are you not gay?" He asked blatantly, putting the cards down and pulling a few more bowls from the cupboard.

I let out a small gasp in disbelief and let go of my shirt. "I am not gay! This is skinship! Skinship I tell you! If I was gay, then no one would continue the family line, and I'd have fabulous and not cool at all!"

"That's not correct. You don't have to be fabulous to like other men, besides it's probably best that your brother is the one to continue the family line anyway. Your children might be born desigesed."

"Not uh! My children will be the best most awesome hero children this world has ever seen! He can't even have kids because he's the gay one in the family you… You idiot! You remember that french kid from the cake story? Yeah, that's his boyfriend, and he's French as they come too."

"Oh, he's gay? And you're twins? I see, you can't possibly be gay if you have a gay twin."

"Oh shut it Ivan! Here," I tossed the cards into his many bowls. "Lets get started so that we can watch movies and shovel food into mouth hole!"

Ivan cocked his head to look at me, his eyes playful and his smile innocent. "That's not the only thing your mouth could be stuffed with."

I rolled my eyes very deliberately. "Ivan, I think you've been putting food into the wrong hole, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is shit." I took a step back the moment the sentence came from my lips, and I think he was almost as surprised as I was. "T-that came out kinda wrong. Um..." I looked at the door, and then at Ivan who only lifted a brow. "I was gonna help, but I just remembered that I was never any good in the kitchen, so im just ganna get everything set up and you can work your magic in here! Make sure not to play with knifes, and if you spill salt throw a pinch over your left shoulder! Well, good luck and bye!" With that I was running through the kitchen doorway and slamming the door behind me.

I thought Ivan would be a shit cook, and my original plan was to watch over his shoulder like a majestic eagle and criticize his every move, but the smell coming from the kitchen was really nice, and I was willing to hold onto the hope of good food.

Picking out a movie on the other hand was proving to be difficult. Action was my goto, but action probably wouldn't send me home by the end of the night. I flipped through the movies that I could read, all of which I had seen hundreds of times, and thought about what would irritate him the most. We didn't have any movie about the cold war, and all the other war movies were about WW2. Scary movies were out of the question (For I have a small problem with clinging.), and a romance would probably give Ivan the wrong Idea about what I actually wanted from him. The only option was a comedy filled with humor he wouldn't understand, and the only movie I could think of that would probably fit the bill perfectly happened to be White Chicks.

After I decided on the movie I had no Idea what else we could do. I told him I wanted explosions, but that actually seemed a little unreasonable and I didn't know how we'd go about it. I didn't want to, but I swallowed my self pity masked as pride and decided to scrap my demand for fireworks. I looked about the room and wondered what we could do. This wasn't the ranch I was used to.

When Ivan finally opened the kitchen door and called me in, i'd decided on only three things for us to do. One would be the move, the other would be an intense video game session, and the last would be us painting pictures. How boring is that? It's all I could think of though, and unless Ivan had some magical Russian birthday tricks to pull out of his nose, it was going to be a pretty dull birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of how my nephew got set on fire. "He got drunk and did push ups over one. The end."


	9. chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is stupid and Ivan is also stupid, but significantly less so.

"We have neighbors!?" I asked when I walked into the kitchen and saw the long haired man standing by the table next to Ivan.

"No." Ivan said quickly, giving the man a displeased look. "He was just leaving."

"Oh come on! The more the merrier! It'll be fun, let him stay. " A stony look was cast in my direction.

"You just met this man, why would you want to celebrate with him?" Ivan asked.

"Well, I don't really know you any better."

The man shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable.

"Look," I said, trying my best to sound convincing. "We can do a lot more with three of us! We can play monopoly for six hours and then you can get mad that i'm winning and flip the board gave over, and then we can play other games like twister, and D.C deck builder. It'll be cool! Come'on."

"I-I actually can't stay that long." The long hair man replied, looking down at Ivan from the corner of his eye. When Ivan nodded his head the man visibly relaxed.

"Toris has much that he has to do. He only stopped by the drop off a few things. He should be leaving soon."

"How soon is soon?" I asked, picking up the lighter next to the cake and handing it to Ivan. "Because if it's not too soon I do need someone to sing to me, and you don't want to have to sing to me alone, do you?"

Ivan handed the lighter off to Toris, who instantly rounded the table and started to light the candles. "That's okay," Ivan said. "since it seems that he will be staying for a short time, he can sing to you."

The boy's head shot up at the comment, but he immediately started lighting the candles again, his head hung low in embarrassment, and his ears slightly red.

I gave Ican a disapproving look and picked up one the the candles and helped him light the rest.

"Oh, it won't be that bad. I'm pretty cool so it'll be okay. It just shows how much braver you are than Ivan." The man's ears got even redder and his hand shook a little.

"Sit down, Fredka." Ivan said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I thought your name was Toris. Is that your last name or something?" I said to the newcomer.

"No," Ivan said, letting his hand fall against the table. "You are Fredka, now sit down so the man can sing to you, you can do your silly American thing of spitting all over the cake, and he can leave."

"It's not silly!" I said rounding the table to do as he said. "You know what's stilly? Wearing a trenchcoat and scarf in the house. That's what's stilly." I pouted a bit and crossed my arms, pulling the chair out with a delightful screech and plopping down.

I looked up to see Toris looking at me in horror. I got really embarrassed, realising I was acting like a five year old in front of a guest. "Sorry." I mumbled, sitting up straight. I felt my ears growing hot, and then I heard Ivan talk to him in his native tongue.

Suddenly Toris was singing, his voice light and floating.

"Daudz baltu dieniņu Laimiņa dodi,

Diženi, raženi dzīvojoti!

Diženi, raženi dzīvojoti!

Daudz baltu dieniņu Laimiņa, dodi,

Diženi, raženi strādājoti!

Diženi, raženi strādājoti!

Daudz baltu dieniņu Laimiņa, dodi,

Diženi, raženi mīlējoti!

Diženi, raženi mīlējoti!"

The song was actually very pretty, but the tune didn't really sound like the happy birthday I was used to. I figured it was better than nothing, and who else had strangers singing to them in another language? No one, unless you count Mattie who probably got his strange boyfriend to sing to him in French, but i'm not gonna count him.

"Okay, now I make my wish. Normally i'd say it in my head, but since it's something you can do for me Ivan, i'm gonna say it out loud. If I manage to blow out all of the candles, you have to do it."

"This sounds like a bet, not a wish. What do I get when you don't blow them all out?"

"Oh, how cocky of you. You don't know how many candles I have blown out over the years, and lets just say not all of them were mine… I may or may not have spoiled a couple of birthdays for a few people… I'm not exactly proud about it though. I'm just listing my experience so that you don't get yourself in too deep. So, what is it what you want form me, big boy? Just be prepared for disappointment."

Ivan smirked and leaned forward as he talked. "If you don't blow them all out in one breath you will do what I want for one day."

"For one day? That seems like a lot for a stupid candle!"

"Oh, who is not being brave now, hm?" Ivan looked over to Toris and smiled and innocent smile and pointed at me. "He won't even accept the conditions to his own bet."

"I-I accept them! I'm brave! It's you who isn't brave!" I shouted at him. Toris looked at me and shook his head, his eyes wide with worry. I looked down at the cake in anticipation, and took in a deep breath. "I wish that Ivan would sing me happy birthday in Russian and then take me home!" And then I took in an even deeper breath and started to blow, and right as I got to the last candle, the first flickered back to life. Then the second. Then the third. Each candle started to flicker back after I had blown it out. I could feel my breath reaching its end, and I spared a second to look up at Ivan who was leaned back in his chair, a gloved fingers tapping against his crossed arms, and a smug smile smeared on his face. I blew even harder, I could feel my face getting red and I started to get light headed but I was determined to win.

"I love watching the struggle." Ivan commented.

"I-I know." Came the reply from Toris.

He was enjoying this. He knew all along they were trick candles. He knew I would lose.

I fell back in my chair painting. "That's cheating!" I yelled at him when I felt I had enough breath to spare.

"No it's not. It wasn't cheating, was it Toris?"

Both of us looked over at the man who visibly seemed to shrink. "N-No boss, it's not cheating…"

"But you knew!"

"I did, but I still won."

I groaned and slouched in my chair.

"Good, then we will start right now."

"Why now? It's my birthday celebration, and don't you want to wait until you have a full day to spend making me clean your house n' shit?"

The smile never left Ivan's face as he started to pull out all of the candles from the cake and handing them off to Toris, who promptly stuck them in a cup full of water.

"How long is a day?" He asked.

"Twenty-four hours." I replied, watching him pull out the last few candles.

"Are you sure you want to count the night too?"

"No! No, the night doesn't count! Only the parts with the sun!"

Ivan took off one of his gloves and extended his hand out to me. "It is a deal then, only when the sun is out shall it be considered a 'day'." I put hand in his and shook hard, watching as Toris practically fell to pieces.

"Tell me," Ivan began. "Do you know what summer is like in the Arctic circle?"

"Um… No not really. Why?"

Ivan chuckled, picking up a knife and cutting into the cake. "In the Arctic summer the day never ends. It just goes and goes until winter hits in August, give or take'."

"W-what does that have to do with anything?" I asked, hoping for the best.

"I don't know, Alfred. I have yet to see the sun set for a few days now."

"Thats bull shit! It was dark the other night!"

"Ah, but that was a storm. We were quite lucky with that one too, because it was probably the last one we'll see for a while. Just think about it Alfred, you have about 60 or 70 'days' of pure sunlight, doing whatever it is I tell you too."

"Oh, you're pretty fucking pleased with yourself aren't you? Seems about right for a communistic bastard like yourself! You can take that bet and shove it up your ass with all the other smug comments you have you prick!" With that I pushed myself from the table and walked out into the living room as fast as I could.

Toris and Ivan were right behind me of course, but I pretended not to notice until Ivan was pulling me back by the arm.

"Toris, leave." He said, thrusting a plate with a piece of cake on it into his hands. "And enjoy that. You get the privilege of bragging to everyone about how you got to eat something I made with my own hands."

Toris looked at both us us for a while, but I was avoided his eyes like the plague. After a moment, he was out the front door, and I felt Ivan's grip on my arm tighten. "S-sorry." I said quickly, thinking about how mad Ivan was at me. "I-I was embarrassed. I didn't want him to think I was stupid but… It seems like it's too late for that."

His grip on my arm loosened just a little. "It's fine." He said pulling me back towards the kitchen. "It's your birthday celebration, so you get a few more privileges that I would normally give you."

"Aw, can't you give me a few privileges because I'm cute?" I smiled at him, making sure to show my teeth, and look him in the eye with my brilliant cornflower blues. If there was one thing I was good at, it was giving people a dazzling smile. Really, all of this could have been avoided if I had just become a model, lord knows i'm hot enough.

Ivan looked at me for a while and actually seemed to consider it, but eventually he said, "No." and drug me back into the kitchen.

"Ivannnn," I whined, rubbing my cheek against his arm and looking up at him with my best puppy dog pout. "Please?" I bat my eyelashes up at him for good measure.

He openly laughed at this and pulled out a chair and sat down, his hand still on my arm while I stood. "I believe in America the birthday child gets spanked according to the number of their age. I would hate to disappoint you." He tried to pull me down over his knees but I resisted.

"That's for children!" I screamed as he tried to pull me down again.

"Lets say this, for every time you resist from here on, I add fifteen more spanks."

"Are you serious?!"

"Oh yes, I am very serious! Now, lay over my knees."

I slowly did what he told me too. "You sure I can't do something else instead?" I asked, silently thanking heaven that Toris was gone.

"Hm, I suppose you could kiss me."

I looked up at Ivan, thinking about how this position was awkward and uncomfortable. "I kissed you earlier, and It was my first kiss too, isn't that enough?"

"That was then, this is now. It's a kiss or 15 spankings."

"I'll take the spankings please, but don't hit me to hard." His smile waver a bit at my comment, but I didn't think too much about it until I felt one of his hands pin me down onto his lap.

"Feel free to bite something if you need to, I can hit pretty hard." He said, and then I felt the first hit connect with my ass. I screamed and tried to get up, but his hand pushed me back down and I felt another hit connect and echo in my ears. I could feel my ass jiggle when he hit, and I couldn't help but think of the hand print that would be left behind when all of this was done. After the third hit he stopped and asked me if I wanted to re-consider the kiss, to which I promptly said 'Yes'.

Ivan instantly hauled me up from his lap and turned me to face him. "Okay," He said. "kiss me."

I leaned in close but then pulled away quickly. "Close your eyes!" I said, trying not to blush at the thought of his lips touching mine. It only became worse when a sweet smile touched his lips and he did close his eyes.

What a cocky bastard! I thought, trying not to dwell on the fact that I was tricked into being Ivan's servant for almost a two months because of a stupid birthday wish! Then it occurred to me that Ivan never specified where I had to kiss him.

"If I kiss you, do you promise never to hit me ever again?" I asked.

He nodded quickly, I Licked my lips and leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"There!" I said, leaning back and rubbing my ass. "You never specified where I had to kiss you, and now you can't hit me! Ever! Ha!" I wobbled back to my chair on the other side of the table quickly so that he couldn't grab me. When I looked back at him a moment later I saw that he was holding his cheek gingerly.

"Okay…" He said, the tops of his ears red. I was really glad he was facing away from me, because he was actually grossing me out, I mean, I licked my lips first.

I shook my head and leaned over the table, Picking up the knife and cutting myself a piece of cake, noticing the red jelly in the middle. I took a bite, and low and behold, lemon sponge with raspberry and maple. Geez, what a day this was turning out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, I ran up onto a stage, tripped and flashed the audience my ass. Then returned to me seat and never went to a con again. The End.


	10. Chappter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred makes a choice. Maybe.

“What’s the red soup stuff?” I asked, pointing at it with my fork. I had long since given up sitting on my butt, and opted for sitting on my knees and leaning against the table instead. I had to move all the dishes in front of me towards Ivan, but that was okay because he deserved it. 

“That’s Borscht.” He said, swatting my fork away from the pot. “It’s made with red beets. That’s why it is red.” 

“Oh… That sounds... Gross. What’s the Jello stuff?” The dirty look he gave me was priceless. He leaned over and swatted my fork away from the jello too.

“It is Kholodets. Is meat set in aspic. It is traditon-”

“Ew, that sounds gross too. These looks like pickles.” I pointed above the meat jelly to the cucumbers.

“They are pickles! Stop pointing at stuff with your fork!”

“Aw, but it makes you so angry. It’s cute to look at you with your red face and all.” I mocked him, gesturing to the whole of his face with my hand. 

“What's the red stuff in the jar?” I asked before he could lean over and smack me a good one. I didn’t trust that he kept promises well, especially ones sealed with a slobbery kiss on the cheek. 

“Fermented cabbage, you can eat it-”

“Oh, like sauerkraut? Do you have hot dogs or something?” 

“Well, there are sassages, but typical-” 

“Sausages are okay too, but I never really ate them with sauerkraut.”

“No, you eat the cabbaged and drink the vodka!”

“Vodka? I can’t drink vodka!” 

“Legally no, but it’s not like theres anyone up here to stop you.” 

“Except you.”

“Well I won't, so you will drink it. If you want.”

“I guess I could give it a try later… My mom only let me taste champagne once at new years so this’ll be cool! Oh! Do we have skittles? We could make skittles vodka! That would be even better!.” 

“Only champagne on new years? Vodka is a must for new years! That’s what the soft salads are for! Vodka will be too much for you at first, even if it was degraded it with skittles, so we will work you up. I think you will like Kavs. You seem to like sweet things.” He seemed genuinely excited about me drinking with him, like it was his favorite spot and he wanted to play it with me, and it even seemed he was already planning for new years. I was not going to stay that long.

“Soft salads? What do you mean? What kind of drink is Kavs anyways?”

“Oh, here.” He said, picking up a large glass bowl with that appeared to be potato salad chopped up really small. “This is Olivye salad. It is Russian potato salad. It is said that it makes good pillow for drunk people who fall asleep in it. Also, Kavs is a beer, if you will, that is very low in alcohol and is flavored with berries and sometimes honey. You will like it, it is basicly sweet juice.” 

“Damn, you guys party hard! Falling asleep in potato salad! And beer juice sounds gross too.” At first I was thinking that insulting russian food would be hard, but I was finding it easy, and that scared me because I would have to eat it until I left!

He chuckled at this, his smile reaching his eyes. I took the offered bowl and placed it next to me. The was no way in hell that I was going to pass up potato salad when the only other thing I could eat is meat jello and fermented cabbage.

“What’s all the other stuff?” I asked, spooning the tiny goop onto my plate. 

“This is selyodka. It is marinated Herring. This is beef plof. It is, uh, rice and beef. This over here is black bread. There is the cake that you wanted. This is salo. It is sliced bacon fat and you eat it raw on the bread. You eat many things on bread. Also, pickled mushrooms, pickled tomatoes, boiled eggs , Mayonnaise, sour cream, Okroshka, Solyanka, Kompot, Herring Under Fur Coat, Varenyky stuffed with fruits, and I also have caviar if you would like.” 

“Caviar? Raw bacon? What?”

“Ah,” Ivan said, getting up and walking over to the floor fridge. “There are so many things for you to try! I can teach you all about them too. You will learn to like them.” He opened it and rummaged through as I continued to talk. 

“Yea, but… Raw bacon? That just screams worms and disease. I think I’d rather eat your meat jello that let worms eat my brain, thank-you-very-much. And what in the world is Herring Under Fur coat?”

“Well, it’s a layered salad. Herring on the bottom, roasted vegetables next, and then the top is covered in shredded baked beet and mayonnaise. It’s a favorite at almost every party table in Russia. You will grow to like it.”

“Wait!” I leaned over the table and pointed to a cake covered in red frosting and red shredded coconut. “You’re trying to tell me that this cake is not actually a cake? It’s red-fish-mayo-veggie mound?”

“Yes… That’s not a cake. You already have a cake. Typically for a Russian birthday we have a pie. You don’t need another cake. You already have one.”

“Wow. It’s so fitting that the cake is a lie in Russia! I mean, how could there ever be a more fitting environment for a lie based cake? Geez!” I leaned back in my chair, making sure to run my hands through my hair like my mind had just exploded. 

“Uh… Yes. There is no other cake. The Varenyky is sweet though, and there is some Kissel in the fridge if you want that. Other than that it’s just savory food. The kompot is a sweet drink though. I thought you would like that.” He shut the fridge then took out a small box from a draw near the sink, then he walked over to me and placed four jars of caviar on the table. “We will eat this first. It is expensive and very good. I think you will like it. Have you had caviar before.?”

“Uh… Yea. On a cruise once. I didn’t really like it. I can’t get over the fact that it’s hundreds of fish eggs. I can eat chicken eggs all day every day… But fish eggs are... Different.” 

He pulled up a chair and sat down facing me. “This is very expensive sturgeon caviar. Russia is famous for it. I also have this significantly cheaper Salmon caviar that you might have tried. What would you like to eat first?”

“Um… None… Of them. Don’t you have to eat all of it once you open it? I don’t know. I think I’m fine with all this other… Food.” 

Ivan looked a little disappointed at this. “Are you sure you don’t want to try them? It grows on you.”

“Why would I want to eat fish eggs when I have all of this…” I looked around at all the ‘food’ Ivan pointed out earlier. “When I have three kinds of soup, fake cake, real cake, weird fish, weird bread, stir fried beef, dumpling things with fruit, juice, and meat jello! And theres also that stuff in your fridge… Uh.. Kr- Kr-.... Kriss-kross.”

“You mean Kissel? It’s more like a fruit soup than a food. Another sweet.”

“See? Why do we need to eat the fish eggs now when we have all of this and fruit soup. Besides, if we open and try all of those then we will have to eat them all, and this f-f-feast will all go to waits. Think of the meat jello’s feelings. And we can’t forget the metric fuck ton of pickled things can we? Can’t forget the pickles, they have feelings too.” I reached over and grabbed a cucumber and took a bite for good measure, just to show him what I was getting at. To bad it was delicious. 

“Look,” I said while waving the bitten pickle at him. “We have food for days. It’s about three metric fucktons of food, and we can eat your expensive fish eggs when we have the stomach capacity for it!” Besides, I need to weasle myself into your head, and I can’t do that when I’m throwing up fish larva. “So… What do you want to eat first? We have a lot to choose from… How about…” I looked around the table while I took another bit of my pickle. “How about you sing me happy birthday in Russian?”

“Nyet.” He said instantly.

“Oh come on! I’ll do something for you!”

“Like what?” He looked a little sheepish… And excited.

“Oh, I don’t know… What do you want me to do? Give you another kiss on the cheek? Feed you? Come on, tell me!” 

He face got a little red with anger. “You are teasing me!” 

“Aw, I am, but that’s because you’re so cute! Just think about it… You sing me a little song, and I gave you a little something-something in return. I’m already forced to be your servant, whats a little reward? It’s not like you’re getting nothing out of it! Come on.”

“It’s a song from an old cartoon. You won’t like it!”

“What do you mean I won’t like it!? I love cartoons! And” I leaned forward and looked up at Ivan through my eyelashes. “Do you have any idea what hearing another language does to me? Especially when someone as pretty, strong, and… Educated as you Sings to little ‘ol me? I’m sure you can guess though.” I pressed the pickle to my lips and made a show of putting it into my mouth.

I saw him swallow, hard, and his eyes lingered on my lips for longer than was necessary. I tried not to choke as I bit down on the fermented plant, makeing a satisfying ‘crunch’ noise and Ivan visibly jumped. 

You don’t fool me ya’ nasty. I know where your mind is!

“I-I guess I could sing… A little bit… If you promise to do something for me!”

“Sure hun! What is it?”

He leaned in close and was suddenly very serious. His intense gaze met mine as he leaned in even closer. I moved back a little instinctively, shocked and a little scared, but stopped moving when I realised that I could get what I wanted out of him by tricking him into thinking he wanted the same things I wanted. I needed to be cool about it. I need to be… Smooth.

“Can you see yourself reflected in my eyes the way I can see myself reflected in yours?” It’s a good thing he doesn't wear panties because they would have dropped.

“Yes.” He said, and then ripped the pickle from my hand. “And you are not allowed to eat pickles any more.” Then he backed away and took a bite. 

“W-what?”

“Now I will sing to you the Russian birthday song! You can not say anything about it, or I will make you eat the caviar!”

“Ew! No! Fine! Fine! I won’t make fun of you! Just sing to me!”

“Okay… Just remember it is from old childrens show….”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I can understand it. I just want you to sing to me!” 

“Okay then…” He cleared his voice and his face got red, but he started singing anyway. It seemed like he looked at everything but me during the song too.

“Пусть бегут неуклюже  
Пешеходы по лужам,  
А вода — по асфальту рекой.  
И не ясно прохожим  
В этот день непогожий,  
Почему я веселый такой.  
Припев:  
Я играю на гармошке  
У прохожих на виду...  
К сожаленью, день рожденья  
Только раз в году.  
Прилетит вдруг волшебник  
В голубом вертолете  
И бесплатно покажет кино.  
С днем рожденья поздравит  
И, наверно, оставит  
Мне в подарок пятьсот «эскимо».  
Припев  
Я играю на гармошке  
У прохожих на виду...  
К сожаленью, день рожденья  
Только раз в году.”

The song was really mellow and sweet, and flowed together nicely. 

“Your voice is really nice! I don’t understand what you were so embarrassed about! You could sing to me like that all day, every day and you would never hear a complaint from me!”

“It is just that I… Have not sung to anyone for many years…”

“Aw, that’s too bad!”

“Yes. It is...”

“So what do I have to do now?” I asked not, sure if the condition was never eating pickles again, or if never eating pickles again was a side command that I had to follow as well as something else.

“Ah… You can…” Ivan’s face got very red. “You can…” He looked around the room frantically and picked up a salt shaker. “Here!” He said handing it off to me.

“What’s this for?” I asked, not bothering to mask my amusement at Ivan’s embarrassment. 

He pointed at it and opened his mouth to say something, but after a moment he ripped it from my hand and slammed it back on the table. I openly smiled at him, and watched the red in his cheeks drain.

“Do you want to open your presents?” He asked, all composure back instantly.

“Yes! Yes I want to open my presents!” 

He pointed behind me, and there, nestled behind the counter, was a small pile of presents. “Oh yea! That’s even more than I normally get!”

“You can open them if, and only if, you call me master.”

“Wait.. You’re making me be your servant and I have to call you master?”

“Yes.” He said, crossing his arms.

I really had to think about it, I mean, presents. Was it worth it? Selling my pride over a few things. I sighed and crossed my arms too, wondering if any good could come out of it. Ivan wants me to make him feel special, and I wanted Ivan to take me home and let me have the pile of wrapped goodness next to me…  
The whole situation reminded me of an argument that was brought up during my English class when we read The Taming of the Shrew. Someone argued that the woman, Katerine, didn’t actually change, she put on a show so that she could manipulate her husband into bending to her will. I personally thought the theory seemed a little far fetched, but now that I was in a similar situation… Maybe it was a good idea, I mean, it worked so far...

I thought back to my list of annoying things and wondered if it was really my A game. Maybe… Maybe I needed to be a little more… Manipulative? They way it was looking I had the rest of my life to experiment, so if being manipulative didn’t work, I could just go back to being a prick. That settled it. I was going to pretend to be a little twinky gay boy. Really, it hurt to think about, but I took a deep breath and thought about my family. 

“You confuse me so much. One moment you’re pushing me down and taking my first kiss, the next minute you’re a blushing stammering mess, and then a moment after that you’re stern and authoritative! But, I guess if I have too...” I walked up to him slowly and gently touched his chest and shoulders. “How do you want me to say it? Do you want me to say your name too?” I stroked his shoulder a bit, then looked up into his eyes and gave him a beaming smile. He looked away, something that comes naturally when you look directly at the sun. What? I like to give 100 and 10 percent okay? Whats the point in doing something half assed? 

“Maybe… You shouldn't do that… Maybe…” I felt him stiffen as he tried to pull away. 

“Can I still open my presents?” I asked, trying to keep my cool.

“Yes…” His voice was deflated and lacked any sort of sternness.

That moment was the moment I knew what sort of situation I was going to have to put myself through, and If Ivan was a bear, I really didn’t want to be his twink for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time I swallowed change. It hurt.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred cries a lot and gets presents.

It took me a few minutes to get into my role after Ivan agreed to let me open my presents. I needed to be sweet, obedient, and manipulative, even if it meant having to get close and personal. Hugs? I could pretend he was family. Kisses? I could pretend he was a girl whom I found relatively attractive… Anything more than that? Cuddling is the farthest I was willing to go.

After all of that mind mojo, I took to opening the wrapping paper in the most appropriate manner for birthdays-- ripping them open and greedily tearing out their bowls for my own enjoyment. Admits the new pair of pajamas, bottles of cologne, various hair products, and videogames, Ivan had a ‘special’ present that he insisted on holding onto until it was the last present left. When that time finally came he held the box a little tighter in his hands. 

“I think you will like this a lot.” He said, gently handing the package over to me, placing the box gently into my lap. “It’s very important that you are careful with this.”

I took the package and turn it over in my hand, wondering if the object inside was made of glass. The package was heavy enough.

“Well, okay…” I removed the tape and the plain white paper. The box inside was made of leather and had a rough texture. The box itself was clasped shut with a gold lock, and taped on top was the key. Ivan stiffened, but his eyes and smile were filled with what I assumed to be excitement. 

I opened the lid and was a little weirded out. 

“A revolver? You got me a revolver for my birthday?”

“Do… Do you not like it?”

“No… I love it…” It really was a nice gun. It had a long silver barrel, and the gun gleamed like it had just been polished. “I just… Don’t understand why you would trust me with a gun. What If I decide to shoot you?” I looked up at him completely shocked by the display of trust.

“Ah. I suppose its only natural for you to be confused.” He took the gun out of the box before I could.   
“If you shoot me and I live, I will shoot you. If you do kill me, my men will kill you. In the end I trust that you won't do any of that, but I’m more concerned with you hurting yourself… I figured it would be a great present for you considering the way you talk about farms and America… It’s not really a necessity at the moment, but there are a few advantages of knowing how to use one.”

I reached out and took my gun from Ivan, trying my best not to think of his men shooting me down.   
“Well, Ivan boss, show’s how much you know about me! I have won so many awards for my sharp shooting skills. Really, I am a cowboy and all. I can handle a gun, a horse, and a lasso! It might be worth mentioning that I won't try to kill you because I like being alive and not being in pain, but if you need me to shoot a whole bunch of bottles in five seconds, I’m your guy!” 

“Oh, you can use a gun? I’m a little disappointed. I wanted to teach you.” 

“Oh, Im sure you can teach me something else… Like how to wrestle a bear! That seems fun! Or you can teach me… Oh I don’t know… How to bench press the right of my entire family? Geze… I can teach you! How about that?”

“What can you teach me?”

“Can you ride a horse? Or maybe I can teach you how to hog-tie a goat! Maybe how to brand a cow? If it’s really gonna be sunny for sixty something days I think we should spend the whole time outside! Or something like that. I feel so cramped, and I want to shoot at things now… Not you of course.” I moved closer to him and nuzzled his chest like a cat. “Besides, I like you well enough. Also killing people just isn’t my thing… Even if they kidnap me.” I started to pout and gave him the stank eye, my mood suddenly turning south. 

Ivan scooped me up and pulled me into his lap, turning me a little so that I lie in his arms looking up at him. He smiled downed at me and stroked my hair, but it was rough and not entirely pleasant.

“Is that why you have been such an angry boy? You think I kidnapped you? Well... I guess I did, but not from your family.” He pulled me a bit closer to his chest, smiling down at me as he leaned over and put the gun back in its box. “I do all these nice things for you and you still act like a little brat. ” 

“I’m not a brat! You’re just a giant dick, and what do you mean you didn’t kidnap me from my family!? Who else did?! I mean, obviously you’re a shady guy, and you do shady guy things! Kidnapping is a shady guy thing! So, obviously you did it! And then there’s that whole part about you not telling me anything, and you’re kinda scary, and keep secrets and stuff! Obviously you’re a giant dickhead and you took my family away from me and now I have to spend my time with you!” I pushed Ivan away, and moved to crawl away, but he caught me and pulled me close to him again. His hands gripped my arms tightly, and he pushed my head into the crook of his neck, where his soft scarf smothered me. I pushed up, the pleasant smell of sandalwood and chamomile irritating me, and tried to ignore the strength of his fingers as they kept me in place. 

“Let me explain!” He shouted, forcing my head back into the crook of his neck. “Let me explain!”

“Explain what?!” I screamed before pushing my head further into his neck myself and trying to bite him through his scarf.

“Stop that!” He yelled, pulling my head away by the hair. I reached up and tried to claw his face, but he quickly threw me off his lap and pinned me to the ground. He wrapped his hands around my wrists and threw his leg over my thighs. He pressed his weight down hard, and no matter how I tried to wiggle, buck or push against him, he wouldn't move.

“Get off me! Get off of me!” I screamed, trying to push him away, but only succeeded in forcing him to dig his fingers further into my skin.

“It’s not what it seems! Let me explain!” He yelled back, putting even more of his weight on me as I tried to force him off again. 

“No! I don’t want to hear your excuses!”

“Calm down! I just want you to understand!” He said, trying to calm him himself down too. “I just want you to understand!” He repeated again, his voice losing it’s angry edge and softening into a shallow plea.

“I don’t want to understand!” I said, the anger in my voice falling away as tears threatened to spill out my eyes. “I’m sick of this! I’m sick of all of this! I just want to go home and see my family and friends again!” I tried to cover my face, but Ivan’s hand held me down a while longer. Once I started to cry his weight lifted a little, before he finally pulled off me. I turned on my side and shoved the ‘presents’ Ivan used to bribe me away angrily before covering my face with my hands.

I felt so ashamed. I cried more in the last few days, in front of the man who kidnapped me, than I had ever cried before. Given the circumstances it was expected, but that didn't lessen the shame I felt. Heroes beat the bad guy and push their way out of a bad situation, I was just trying to seduce my captor into letting me go. Really, I felt pretty shitty.

I curled in on myself and tried not to sob too loudly. I heard Ivan stand up a moment, before he was sitting down next to me again and draping his long brown coat over me. It was warm, and smelled like his chamomile aftershave and sandalwood. I tried hard not to find comfort in it, I really did, but the warmth… The warm pulled me in, almost in the same way Ivan pulled me into his lap a moment later. 

“Really,” He said gently, stroking my hair. “There's so much you need to know… I didn’t take you from your family… It’s a little complicated to explain, but… To put it very simply, I took you from the people that took you first. So… Technically I kidnapped you from kidnappers…”

At that moment it was all a little hard to process, but soon the ‘fact’ made its way through my brain. “If that’s the case they why wont you let me go home!?” I sobbed into his lap, contemplating whether to not it was a good idea to bite him. 

“It’s far more complicated than that, Fredka. If you go home you will just be taken again.” He said, stroking my hair and rubbing gentle circles on the small of my back through his coat. 

“Then I’ll go into witness protection and change my name to Roberto Sanchez and dye my hair black!”

“Shh, Alfred, calm down. It’s not that easy. They will find you and they will take you again. You are safe here, your family is safe with you here. Right now it’s dangerous for you to go home. It’s dangerous for your family for you to go home… Just be content for now… Be content to stay here with me… I’ll take care of everything. I promise. Trust me.”

His words were soothing, but they didn't cover the fact that I simply didn't want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my friends moved away and now my nephew sleeps on our couch.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing and heavy stuff happens. Also phone calls and other things.

RECAP OF ALL CHAPTERS UNTIL NOW: Alfred is kidnaped and ends up at Ivan’s house in the middle of the Arctic Circle where he makes a bet on his birthday that he ends up losing. Now the young 15 year old is stuck playing servant to Ivan, an unknown man of an unknown age, and ends up in many poorly written, poorly edited, poorly executed foreplay scenes. Alfred can’t stand the thought of being captive, even though his body seems to magically think otherwise, and so he comes up with many childish schemes to ‘trick’ Ivan into taking him back home to his family, all of which Ivan, originally a very smart character, seems to fall for, except in a very passive-aggressive way that shows no fruit for Alfred’s schemes. The last we saw of the due was when they were both on the kitchen floor enjoying merriment and opening presents together. Alfred received a gun from Ivan, which was very weird, but quickly turned the mood sour in a way that was not pulled off very well. The two basically pull at each others hair and bite at each other before the main character, Alfred, starts to cry over his losses. Ivan seeks to comfort the boy by forcing the boys head into the crook of his neck several times, then when the boy tries to bite him, he pulls him away by the hair, pins him to the ground, and basically screams at him to listen to him explain all of the things he should of explained like, 8 chapters ago, which turns out not to be much more than a “I didn’t kidnap you wai wont you trust me I saved you from kidnappers and you can't go home plz stay with me 4ever OR YOUR FAMILY WILL DIE but not because of me.” NOW. LETS NOT DWELL ON THE FACT THAT SOME THINGS MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE APPEARED IN HERE BY SOME SORT OF MAGIC. IT’S BEEN SO LONG YOU PROBABLY DON’T REMEMBER ANYWAYS. EVEN I’M NOT SURE. 

Guys. Guys I went through and re-read it all so that I could ‘know’ all of the things that I wrote and so that I could start writing again without any major loopholes or changes, and I’m sorry that you had to read all of that. (Takes gasping breath) So many errors. So much awful terrible writing. I haven't updated because many shits happened and many life changing events happened. Unfortunately, many are still to come. NO! I have not given up on this monstrosity and I intend to finish it! I also have several prompts for future Rusames that I Intend to write, so I hope you look forward to it! Now that I’ve started writing I think I may have forgotten many of the things I originally wanted and already wrote, even though I just read them all an hour or so before starting to write again. Oh gasping well. Also, update a week later that you guys won't know about because of the whole time thing, I had to give my cat away. The person who took my baby said that they wanted a cat, and then a week and a half later that little man whore fucking ass wipe bitch motherfucker murdered my baby because it was ‘too attached’. Didn’t even ask if I wanted him back, didn’t even try to take him to a shelter or ask if anyone else wanted him, his first thought was to fuking kill him. The fucker. I’m so pissed. Little fucking bitch.

 

All in all my day wasn’t so bad. I mean, of course it was bad, but it really could have been worse. I could be dead and my body thrown on the side of some mountain for wild Russian animals to feast on. It definitely wasn’t my ideal birthday, but I would remember it at least.   
I touched the back of my head where Ivan had basically pulled a fist full of my hair out. The hair was still hair of course, but I really wanted something to be upset about, not that I was sort of anything to grumble about of course. It was shameful how easy it was to return to my chair with my head hung low.  
“You pulled my hair really hard…” I said defeatedly, my eyes still strained from the conflict a few moments earlier.   
“Da, but you tried to bite me.” He replied, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.  
“Well, you were holding me down… I was defending myself...” I looked down at the table and started the scratch at it’s varnished surface. Ivan was quiet for a few moments before he released a long sigh.  
“You want the Pilaf?” He asked while reaching for my plate.  
“Yea, it’s like, Chinese food right?”   
Ivan scoffed as he spooned the rice beef stuff onto my plate. “I doubt you have ever had real chinese food before.”  
“I have too! I live in America, not some back wood Russian polar bear house in the middle of Siberia! My best friend is Japanese, so I at least know a little!”  
“The Chinese and the Japanese are very different people, Alfred.”  
“Well, I know that, but they both take their shoes off before they go inside, right? And the language is different and stuff, but they both have soy sauce.”  
Ivan scoffed as he set the plate down in front of me.  
“A lot of people take their shoes off before they enter their house, Alfred.”  
“I know that, Ivan, I’m just saying that asians generally do that, it doesn’t mean all asians do it! I mean, you take your shoes off before you come into the house!”  
“Hm, I’m surprised you noticed that.”  
“I’m not stupid! I notice things all the time, I just jump to conclusions! They’re two different things!”  
“Jumping to conclusions is a stupid habit to have, Alfred.” Ivan said, sitting back in his chair and casting me his all too annoying smile.  
“Oh fuck off, Ivan.” I said while digging into the rice and shoveled a hefty spoonful into my mouth. “N’ ‘buffides, ifs’ not lik-” I looked over at man sitting across from me and took pleasure in his thoroughly horrified and disgusted face. “Wut’?” I asked, a grin forming on my face. “Dun’ wike’ wut’ you see, Wiven?”  
I saw the beautiful way he closed his eyes and took in a deep shaking breath, before crossing his arms and looking at the floor. I felt the table start to shake from the bouncing of his leg, and then very slowly he started to wag his pointer finger at me, not daring to look in my direction.   
“I could slap you, but I don’t think I could tell you why just yet. I feel like i’ve seen too much to process without crushing every bone in your jaw so that you could never speak or chew again.”   
I quickly closed my mouth and swallowed. “You promised not to hit me!” I stated, pointing my finger back at him in panic. “You promised!”   
Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at me. His purple glare was fixating in more than one way, and I could only watch as he lifted his own hand and pushed my pointing hand away from him.  
“If you ever say my name like that again, or eat like a disgusting cow again, I’ll-”  
I was left waiting for the end of that statement, waiting for the threat. Waiting for Ivan to drown me in the meat jello, but it never came. Instead he only lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“You’ll do what?” I asked, swallowing audibly, the tension too much for me to handle. “You’ll… You’ll kill me…?”  
“No. I wont kill you.” He stated, the tension in his shoulders releasing just a tiny bit. “I won't do that.”  
I looked down at my plate. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. We sat in silence for a bit, the only sound was that of me pushing the rice around on my plate.   
“I’m… Sorry I called you Wiven’ and talked with my mouth open…” I couldn’t look him in the eyes when I apologise. The gesture itself was hard enough for me to do, and doing it while looking into someone elses eyes would only make me feel more guilty. Feeling guilt sucks.  
He let out a soft scoff. “Wiven… That’s not what I was angry about. The chewing yes, but my name. You say it wrong every time.”  
“What? Ivan? I say Ivan wrong?”  
He let out a long sigh. “Yes. Yes, you say it very wrong.”  
“Oh… Sorry… We just.. Say it like that in America… Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you wait to explode before you told me it bothered you?”   
“It was cute at first, and then it just became…” He didn’t finish the sentence, he just lazily waved his hand around in a very vague gesture.   
“Well, how do you say it then?” I asked.  
“Evan.” He stated simply.  
“Even?” I asked.  
He looked at me for a moment and then smiled a little.   
“Basically. Just… I guess it’s more like Eve-on.”   
“Oh… That names a little hard to make fun of.”  
“Is it now?”  
“Yea…” I looked down at the table again. “Can… Can I make fun of you?” I asked.  
He scoffed again. “Why would you want to do that?” He asked.  
“Well… My counselors at school said that making fun of people makes you feel powerful and that’s why people are mean to each other. Because, you know, you wouldn’t do it if they didn’t make you feel all… I don’t know. High? Like, you wouldn’t be mean to people if their reactions didn’t make you feel good, ya know?”   
“So you want to feel powerful?” He asked.   
“Yea, I guess that’s it.”  
“Fine. Go ahead.”  
“Really?” I asked in disbelief.   
“Yes.” He said. “Make fun of me. Make me fun.”  
“Uh… Okay then. I wasn’t expecting that… Well… Even beeven bo feeven fi-fi-fo feeven, Even?”  
“Do you feel powerful now?” He asked.  
“No… Not really.” I said, looking down at the table again. “What about you?” I asked after a moment.  
“What?”  
“What about you? Do you... Feel powerful?” I asked again, not daring to look up at him. We both sat there for a while, and I was almost willing to start counting the seconds to see if eternity really had passed.   
“No.” He finally said. “No, not really.”  
Looked up at him him then, and he looked so much older in that moment. So much more… Tired.  
“I need a drink.” He said, getting up with a sigh.   
_______

A drunk Ivan was an altogether pleasant Ivan, and yet an altogether disturbing Ivan too. It’s amazing how quickly the Vodka started pouring after his first shot. It was such a weird occurrence too. One moment he was at the counter pulling out a bottle and a shot glass, and the next minute he was at the table with an empty coffee mug in hand and three vodka bottles tucked under his arm.  
It was so fascinating to see his eyes glaze over and his cheeks glow rosy, and after a while he just set the mug and the vodka on the table and stopped drinking. Well, he stopped until I took a bottle and poured a little into the cup. That’s when the disturbing magic started to happen. The wonderful horrible delightful magic.   
His eyebrows shot up and he just looked at the cup for a moment, and then… And then this goofy grin spread over his and he picked up that cup and swallowed it down. And then, I poured in a little more, and he did it all over again. Right down to the eyebrow shuffle and the teeth sparkle. It was fascinating, and you know I took advantage of it.  
“Hey, Even?”  
“Hm?” He said while looking up, and then his face light up in delight. “Oh, Fredka! What do you want?”  
“Can I see your phone?” I asked as innocently as possible.   
“Oh, sure…” He looked down and started fumbling with his coat pockets, and I discreetly poured a little vodka into the cup.  
“Here.’ He said, handing over his smart phone.  
“Great!” I looked it over and then handed it back. “Hey, could you do me a solid and enter your password in there?”   
“Oh.. Sure..” He entered the 4 digit code and handed it back. “What do you want it for?’ He asked.  
“Oh, nothing much. Just.. You know, wanted to admire your… Language.” Really it all was in Russian, but the picture icon was universal. I set my elbows on the table and tried to make it seem like I was just scrolling through the home screen, when I was really switching the camera over to video. I hit the record button right as he was about to open his mouth.  
“Hey there big guy, what’s in that cup over there?” I asked watching him on the phone screen.  
He scrunched his eyebrows up and looked at me for a moment, and then… And then he leaned over a bit and looked in the cup, and his eyebrows shot up… He picked the cup up… and smiled that goofy smile… And then swallowed it all.   
“Beautiful.” I said while looking at the recording screen. “Just beautiful.”  
He looked over at me in surprise and blushed. Then, he lifted his scarf up a little bit and tried to hide a growing smile behind the cup.  
“You think i’m beautiful?” He asked softly.   
I tried to hold in a giggle as I recorded. This. Was. Gold.   
“Oh yes!” I said. “You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!”  
Ivan shuffled around a bit and tried to hide his smile again. He was embarrassed, red faced, and I was recording it all. “What's… What do you think is beautiful about me?” He asked.  
“Oh… Um. Your eyes. They’re really beautiful.”  
“Oh, yea?” He asked. “My father always said they reminded him of the color of a dead person lips.”   
“Oh.” I said, taken aback by the statement. “Your fathers a bit of a dick head. Your eyes are gorge. Like, tots gorge. Like, looking into them is like looking into a pond of liquid amethyst. Or something cool like that.”  
“Oh, really?” He asked, smiling a little brighter.   
“Oh yea, really. And your scarf is super cute and totally fits you.”   
“Really?” He asked again, looking down at the garment and touching it gingerly with his hand. “My sister made it for me before she died.”  
“Oh.” I said, taken aback by yet another statement. “Your sister died?”   
“Da, they both did.” He answered. “In a car accident… Sometimes... I try to drink the pain away, but it never works.” His smile was gone by then, and he looked at the scarf for a while. “But it’s different now.”  
“What is?” I asked softly.  
“The pain.”  
“What do you mean? How is it different?”  
“Well… It’s gone now.”  
“It is? The drinking must have finally worked then.” I said, trying to laugh the heavy atmosphere off.   
“Hm. Maybe.”  
I felt really guilty for recording him now, and the fact that I still was recording made me feel even worse.   
“Hey, you want to watch a movie or something?” I asked, hoping to change the mood a little.   
“Sure!” He said, dropping his scarf. “That would be fine.”  
“Yea.” I said, picking up the vodka bottle. “Just after another one of these.” I said, pouring vodka into his cup. He looked at it a moment, and then his eyebrows shot up, and a smile spread across his face.  
_______

I couldn’t possible subject Ivan to White Chicks after the night--or day-- we were having. He was just too… Snuggly. And I mean it when I say that too. He was a snuggle monster.  
“What do you want to watch?” I asked, sifting through the movies once again.   
“I don’t know~” Ivan said while stumbling onto the couch. “What ever you want to watch~”  
“Hm…” I touched Ivan’s phone to make sure it hadn't locked. “I guess we could watch LOTR or something.”   
“Okay~” He said in a sing-song voice from behind me.   
I focused on putting the movie in, then checked the phone again. I kept it on camera just in case and pressed the button every now and again. Who cared if he had a few pictures of the floor? Not me.   
“Okayyy.” I said, walking to the couch as the trailers started to play. I sat down and Ivan immediately flopped over over my lap.   
“Hey!” I shouted, a little startled.  
“The remote is in the draw in the end table.” He said, turning so that he could look up at me with an innocent smile on his face. I looked down at him and took a picture, then I leaned over and grabbed the remote.   
“Did you take a picture of me?” He asked, reaching over to touch my arm gently.  
“Yea.” I said.  
“Why?” He asked, his eyebrows knit together.   
“Because you’re cute!” I said, turning the camera back to video and hitting record. “Who’s a cutie pie?” I asked, watching him squirm under the view of the camera. He grumbled a little and turned away from the camera. “Aw!” I said. “Look at that, look at how cute you’re being! Admit it, you’re cute!”  
“No i’m not!” He grumbled.   
“Say it and I’ll give you a kiss~”   
I saw him purse his lips a little in thought, then he looked up at me from his side before fully turning up to face me.   
“Promise?” He asked.   
“Of course!” I said in reply.  
“I’m… Cute.” He said slowly.  
I laughed a little and leaned down to kiss his forehead. I lifted up and watched as he smiled and touched the spot where my lips had been, then retreated into his scarf a little bit. I turned the camera back on and took a picture of the display. Then I brushed the hair off his forehead and took another one. And then I touched his nose and waited for him to go cross eyed before I took another one. I moved his scarf out of the way and touched his lips with my finger and took another.   
“Hey,” I said, forgetting about the movie altogether in favor of the photoshoot. “Sit up really quick please.”   
He pouted but did as I asked.  
“Okay!” I said. “Um, take your jacket off.”   
“Why?” He asked defensively.  
“So I can lay next to you more comfortably. We can use it as a blanket or something.”   
“Oh. Okay!” He said, quickly striping himself of the coat and laying back against the cushions. He lifted his legs up onto the small couch too. He patted his stomach. “Come here.” He said, a pleasant smile pasted to his face. I took a picture of that too, and then I crawled over him and settled myself between his legs and laid over his stomach.   
“Too fat for you?” I asked, snuggling down and making myself comfortable on his strong chest.  
“Not at all!” He said, running his fingers through my hair. “I love it.”  
I laughed at that. “It’s nice, but it’s hard to take pictures like this.  
He frowned at that. “Why do you need to take pictures?” He asked.   
“Well, they’re presents for sober Ivan.” I said in reply.  
“Oh… Then… Please call me Vanya.” He said, pulling me up further on his chest, then he turned over so that I was between him and the back of the couch. He reached down and pulled his jacket up and covered the both of us off. “Is that better?” he asked.  
His face was just a few centimeters from mine, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.   
“Yea.” I said softly, scared to talk too loudly and let him feel my breath on his lips.   
“Good.” He said before pressing his forehead against mine.   
I was really embarrassed, and I could feel my cheeks turning red. My arms were tucked into my chest, nestled into his chest, and his arms were slung protectively over me, bringing me closer to him. His face was so close to mine that looking directly at him was creepy, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. I wanted to take a picture so bad, but I was also scared as to what he might find in the morning. Eventually the curiosity won over me and I reached up and snapped a picture anyways. Why would I care if there was a picture of me red faced in the arms of another man? I mean… Eh...  
He chuckled then, and the felt the slight rumble in his chest. “You’re far cuter than I could ever be.” He said, rubbing his nose against mine.   
I laughed a little, feeling small, protected, and slightly confused. ‘Eskimo kisses.” I started rubbing back a little. “How appropriate. How much of this will Sober Ivan remember tomorrow? because if he won't remember much we should play tricks on him! You know, a little ‘present’.”  
“Vanya. Call me Vanya tonight.”  
“Oh… Yea… Well, how much will Vanya… Remember?”  
“Probably everything.” He said, snuggling a little closer.  
“No way, you had so much to drink! I can practically taste it on you and I haven’t even had any myself!”   
He laughed and reached for his phone. I wanted to keep it from him because I was hoping to use it to call my family, but I kept my cool, not wanting to freak him out and lose the chance to ask for it back later.   
“Do you want to taste it?” He asked. I was too busy worrying about the phone to really hear it, but he brought the phone closer to his face and messed with it a little, then held it back up in front view.   
“A-are… Are you recording this?” I asked.  
“Aw, not so spunky on the receiving end are we?” He said in a teasing tone.  
“Oh my gosh!” I said, blocking my face with my arms and nessling into his chest. “Stop that!”  
“Aw, but you are so cute too. You said you wanted to give sober Vanya a present didn’t you?”   
“Well, yea, but it was supposed to be embarrassing for you, not me!” I squealed.  
“Aw, why let all you plans go just because i’m holding it now? Hm?” He placed a kiss on my forehead and rubbed my hair a little with his free hand. “What were you planning anyways?” He asked kissing my forehead again. I peeked up at the camera for a moment, just to see what he looked like, and I saw Ivan--Or Vanya-- looking up at it too. I quickly buried my face back down and mumbled into his chest.   
“What was that?” He asked and pulled away from he.  
I puffed my cheeks out and tried to get closer him again, but he kept me at bay. “What was that?” He asked again, a sly smile on his beautiful, ugly, disgusting. drunken face.  
“I said…” I peeked up at the phone again and then back down in embarrassment. “I said I was planning on… Taking a picture of me kissing Vanya and then putting it as your background on your phone… Or something.”   
“Aw, it would be a shame to throw that away!” He said, leaning in and planting kisses all over my head.   
“It’s doesn't matter because you said you’d remember it all anyways!” I said into my hands.  
“Aw, but what if I don’t? It would be a shame to miss out on this opportunity because of a minor thing like that! Think of the opportunity!” He said, kissing my fingers.   
“But! But!” I stammered.  
He laughed a little. “I’ll let you take the picture.” He said, changing it back to camera. “Here.”  
I took it from him and thought about going through with it. I mean… It’s wasn't like I hadn’t kissed him on the lips before, and it was all in the name of a prank, and a life saving all to the ever important family.  
“I… I guess I can…” I turned the camera on us and tried not to look at him. I took a deep breath. ‘Okay, here we go.” I said, closing my eyes and leaning in. I felt his hands touch my face and pull me in closer. I tasted the cake and the vodka on his lips, and when we parted I realised I hadn't taken the picture at all.  
“It looks like we’ll have to do it again.” He said, taking the phone from me. “I’ll do it this time. So we can get it done right of course.”  
“Yea…” I breathed out, sort of dazed.  
“You ready?” He asked.   
“Yea.” I repeated, closing my eyes and touching his face with my free hand. The kiss was different than the time before. It was… Deeper… More needy than the last. He tasted just the same, but his lips were warmer. I heard the click of the camera, and too soon we were pulling apart.  
“There.” He breathed against my lips. “Done.”   
I wanted to look into his eyes, but I was a little scared of what might happen if I did. Instead, I looked up at the phone and watched as he set it to his background.   
“We’re really photogenic.” I said, taking a closer look at it.   
“Yea.” He agreed. “We should take a video too. You know. For Sober Vanya.”  
I looked up at him.”Yea… Okay… That sounds good.” I replied.   
“Good!” He said, pushing the phone over to me. “You hold it, okay?”  
“Yea, okay.” I said, lifting the phone up so it could record us.   
“You ready?” He asked, taking my face into his hands once again.  
“Yea.” I replied, bracing myself for the kiss.  
He leaned in and gave a peck on my lips. It was quick and chaste, but it left me wanting more. The next was only a little bit longer, but soon after that I was thankful that I wasn’t standing. He kisses became deep and needy. They were like fire on my lips and keeping the phone up was a struggle. He licked my lips and ran his hand down to the small of my back. I gasped a little and he let himself in. He dominated my mouth, and I clutched at his shoulder with my free hand.   
He pulled away and looked up at the phone, then wrapped his hand around mine.  
“Don’t drop it.” He said, sitting up and pushing me under him. “It’s only going to get harder from here.” I let out a small whimper, and I heard him chuckle at the sound.   
His hand was still on mine when he leaned down and kissed my neck a few times.  
“You’re trembling.” He said, letting go of my hand and kissing up my jaw. “Try not to drop it.”   
“I-I don’t know if I can.” I stammered. My head was fuzzy and I couldn’t think straight. The only thing I could think about was the feeling of his lips as the brushed across mine, and the feeling of his heat pressing down from above. It was addicting really, and when he started to suck on my neck I finally let out a moan and dropped the phone.  
“You dropped it.” He said, lifting up to whisper in my ear. “Are you going to try to tell me it was because your arm was tired? It’s hard to believe that when you when you let out such naughty sounds when I suck on your neck, Fredka.” He said, and then he was back at that spot again, filling my body with sensations it had never felt before. All I could think of doing was grasping onto his broad shoulders for dear life, and letting him continue doing whatever it was he was doing.   
“W-we shouldn’t be doing this.” I stammered weakly.   
“Why?” He asked, ceasing in his attack for only a moment.  
“B-because you’re drunk as fuck, and I’m…” I moaned again, biting my lip to hold back any others.   
“Such sweet sounds.” He said, licking the hickey he made on my neck. “They are like the sweet nectar from a flower.”  
“I can’t really tell who’s taking advantage of who.” I said.  
He laughed a little and kissed my lips. “I guess we’re both in the wrong then.” He said, leaning in for another deep, vodka flavored kiss.   
“My heads all fuzzy Vanya.” I said when he pulled back.   
“It’s because you’re turned on.” He said, smirking against my lips and looking into my eyes. “You’re turned on by me.”  
“It doesn't feel right.” I said while wrapping my arms around his scarf clad neck.   
“Why.” He asked, pulling away. “Have I hurt you?”  
“No.” I said, trying to catch my breath. “it’s because you’re drunk, you know? I feel like maybe i’m… taking advantage of you in a way that I wasn’t supposed to.”   
“I’m clearly the one taking advantage of you.”  
“But…”  
“Shhh. It’s okay.” He said before kissing me again. “Don’t think about it anymore. Just do what your body tells you to.”  
“Okay…” I said. He leaned in for another kiss and I let him do what he wanted. The feeling of his tongue pressing against mine was maddening, and the way his chest felt against mine only made it worse. After a while I tried to copy what he did. Every time he pressed down, I pressed up, if he moved his tongue, I moved mine. I felt his hands move along my neck so that he could pull me in closer, so I slip my hands under his scarf to touch his neck too, and was rewarded with a surprised moan against my lips.  
I moved my hands a little more, enthralled by the strange sounds the man above me was making, as well as all the strange textures along his neck itself. Soon I felt his weight lift off me a bit and he pulled my hands away. He stayed there a minuted or two to collect himself, and then he got up and walked over to the bed.  
“Vanya?” I asked after him.”Are you okay?”  
“You could say that.” He replied. I sat on the couch for a little while, thoroughly confused. “Did I find your weakness?” I asked after a few moments.  
He groaned a little as he seated himself on the bed. “You could say that I guess.”  
“Are you going to bed? Are you tired?”  
“Yes, and yes.” He replied. “I must or else I don’t know what I would do.”  
I laughed and snuggled back down into the couch, feeling like I had won some big game. I looked to see where the phone had gone in our heated make out session and found that it was conveniently still on my chest where I had dropped it. I looked it over to see if it was still recording, and upon discovering that it was, I gently whispered, “I feel powerful now, Vanya.” before turning it off.  
_____

Figuring out a crazy russian guys phone was not as easy as it would seem. Not only was it in another language, but it was like it was set up to confuse anyone who touched the damn thing. The soft breathing from the sleeping man yonder gave me no worries, but I couldn’t help but feel pressed for time.  
After a good twenty minutes of fiddling with the damn thing, I eventually was able to bring up the caller pad. I started to dial every number that I could, realising that I never actually took the time to memorize anyone’s number at all. The most frustrating part was all the failed attempts to even get connected to America, yet alone connect to a specific someone in America.  
After an hour and a half I gave up on calling and decided to see if I could pull up the internet. That too proved fruitless. I was, however, able to send some guy a few messages of keyboard mashed letters when his text popped up on screen.  
The guy seemed really concerned, replying to every message I sent immediately. After only three minute of the ordeal the guy actually called though. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to answer or not, but I did anyway.   
The man on the other line talked rapidly in Russian and waited for a response.  
“Hello, Is this Toris?” I asked.   
“Who is this?” Came the curt response.  
“Hi, my name is Alfred, what’s yours?”  
“How did you get this phone?” He asked.  
“Well, he sorta asked me to hold it for him. Ivan I mean. Or Vanya. Depends on what he wants to be called in the morning. He’s sleeping right now. I was a little too much for him if you know what I mean. Well, I gotta go now. Don’t want the poor thing to wake up alone in the morning. Tata for now!”   
I hung up quickly and ran to make sure the door was locked. When I was content with that I went over to Ivan and tried to make him up.  
“Hey, wake up real quick please!” It took a few tries, but It eventually worked.  
“What, what’s wrong?” He asked, sitting up quickly.  
“I just wanted to make sure you were wake able. You know. In case I ever need you to wake up.”  
“Why would you need that?” He asked laying back down.  
I crawled over him and got under the covers too. I snuggled up close to him and breathed in his scent. “You know.” I said. “In case I ever piss someone off or worry someone and they come after me.”  
He chuckled a little, but it didn’t last long after her wrapped his arms around me and we both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This girls mom one threw away all her toys when they moved, so I took them. Three years later I met her again and told her about it, and she asked for them all back.


	13. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred gets scared and makes a plan to remedy his fear maybe? DUN DUN DUN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, leave a review. I'm hungry for them and I really really really want to read what you think of this. Also, feel free to comments on the tense and perspective changes. I'm lazy and wanted to pose something quickly, so I didn't fix them... ANY WAY.

I awoke suddenly to the sound of Ivan’s voice harshly whispering from the kitchen. The spot on the bed next to me was cold, but at some point Ivan had taken the time to cover me with, yet again, a plethora of blankets. I untangled myself slowly, the weight of my limbs hanging heavy on my groggy bones.   
I looked at the pillow next to me for a moment, trying to imagine Ivan’s platinum hair spread over it like glowing strands of silk. I reached up to touch it, pretending to stroke imagined Ivan’s eyelashes, when a sudden yelling and the slamming of an object sent adrenaline through my veins. I bolted up from the bed, casting my eyes at the kitchen door. I was scared… Unbelievably scared for someone indirectly observing another's anger though a closed door, and suddenly, I remembered the night before.   
The kissing, the teasing, the panting and moaning… Perhaps even, the heated pressure of.. Someone’s groin? No, that would never happen, right? But what if it had and… Ivan was offended? What if he found the videos and was too overcome by rage to… To keep any of his promises?   
I chewed on the tiniest bit of grown my nails had to offer, before silently stepping out of bed. If Ivan was going to kill me, he’d have to work for it. I wasn't going to lay down and beg for life. It wasn’t like there was much to live for if it meant being some hot Russian guys fuck bitch anyways. No, my duty as an American is to fight for freedom always, in every way shape or form… Even if it meant avoiding all conflict and slipping out the door undetected… You know, like a fucking American ninja badass renegade survivalist, and NOT as a scared child wishing not to get hurt.   
So, I made my two step plan quickly. Step one, Get dressed. Step two, get out the door and run as fast as you can and hope not to die. It was a good plan. A good simple plan that required no prior thinking or, you know, any of the food that was in the kitchen.  
I quickly found a suitable pair of pants and tried to dress as silently as possible, before I decided to pull on a second layer of literally everything except my boots. My mother always said, there’s safety in numbers. Actually she never said that. There was never a need for her to say that, but…  
Another shout from the kitchen sent me scrambling for the shoe rack, pulling out the pair of boots someone managed to pack before kidnapping me. I was in the middle of pulling on one of the boots when I noticed a pair of small, shiny black boots pressed neatly at the side of the door. Another wave of panic washed over me.   
Someone else was in the house? I looked back at the kitchen door. Someone else was in the house… With Ivan… Getting yelled at? I looked back the the boots and gave up trying to get mine on. Who was it? Was it that Toris Dude? Was he getting yelled at? For what? Was it because of the call I took before falling asleep? Was Ivan going to kill Toris if… If he couldn’t kill me?  
The irony was so thick I could almost cry if I wasn’t about to panic. Of course I couldn’t let Toris die because of me, which meant, I had to die instead. 15 years with a life full of stupid mistakes and nothing good to show for it. Matthew was talented and smart, beautiful and gentle in all the ways that mattered. He was going to leave a lot behind and be remembered by everyone as a saint. He was good, and he mattered. I, on the other hand, already had a record and had to take all sorts of classes to develop any sort of coping skill because punching people in the face is frowned upon.  
A lady once told me that I was ‘at risk’ for ‘violent outburst and other behaviors that could easily be exploited’ because, at the time, I’d do anything for anyone who said they were my friend. Yea, Mattie was the golden child and I was… Am...Doing him a favor by staying out of his life. I sighed and leaned back a little on one of my arms and used the other to unbutton one of my shirts.   
How does one even die with dignity? The people in the movies look like fools. Like, no one will be mad at you if you want to live, unless living makes the people who are worth anything die. Then people can be mad… But is that a dignified death? Making sure that the people who will make the world better live? I think it is, and if staying put makes Toris live, and Matthew thrive, then… Then I guess death is the best thing that I can offer the world.   
I stood up slowly on shaky legs and tossed the extra clothes I was peeling off over the back of the couch. The noise in the kitchen had quieted substantially, and I was contemplating crawling back under the covers when the kitchen door opened and Toris stepped out, the left side of his face red and swelling. He looked terrified, but all together alive. He flashed me a strained smile, more of a slight upturn at the lips than an actual smile, and slipped his boots back on, keeping his gaze cast to the floor. I watched him leave, saying a soft “Bye, Toris.” as the door closed behind him.  
I looked back at the kitchen door and gathered all my courage. If he hit Toris, then I there was no reason for him not to hit me. With a deep breath and slow steps, I cracked open the door.   
“Ivan?” I called softly, seeing him standing near the kitchen table.  
“Ah, yes, Alfred. Come in. We have much to talk about.” He said coldly, pulling a chair out and gesturing for me to sit in it.   
I but my lip and clasped my hands together nervously. “Okay…” I said, stepping through the door slowly, my eyes fixed on his face.   
He pulled the chair out a bit further and I sat down in it, looking up at him as he walked to the counter and pulled out a bottle of vodka.   
“You know what this is about, da?” He asked, more of a bored, uninterested statement than a question.  
“I have an Idea…” I said meekly to his back.  
He chuckled darkly, setting the bottle and glass down heavily on the counter. “No you don’t. You have not idea at all.”   
I wanted to say that I did, but I held my tongue, not wanting to provoke his anger. I heard the liquid pour into the glass and then he turned my way, pointing at me with the hand that held the glass. “You almost got a lot of people killed last night Alfred. Have you ever gotten anyone killed before?”  
“Killed!? What do you mean I almost got people killed with… The phone call?” I was shocked. Getting people killed? Over a phone call? That’s the craziest thing ever, and it was also the worst thing ever… Heros don't get people killed.  
Ivan stepped forward, a cruel smile on his lips. “Yes Alfred. Lots of people. People who look up to me, who look after me. My family Alfred. What would you do to someone who tried to get your family killed? I know what I would do. I’ve already done it.” He leaned in and hissed into my face. “It’s why i’m here. Why you’re here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep bad things from happening to them. Anything.” He set the glass down and pulled me from the chair harshly. “Face the wall.” He instructed, pushing me forward.   
I swallowed audibly and did as he instructed, trying to keep my breath even in the face of death.  
“You’re not going to bring up the promises right now?”   
“I-I figured it doesn’t matter much right now…” I spoke softly, not wanting to give my voice a chance to shake.   
He hummed softly, taking a step closer. “You’d be right.” He said into my ear, before grabbing the back of my neck harshly and thrusting me against the wall. His hand was cold and textured. It crossed my mind quickly that he was wearing the black gloves, and panic hit my stomach hard. I instinctively brought my hands up to push off the wall, but he grabbed my shoulder hard enough to bruise and leaned in.  
“Don’t. Move.” He said harshly, gripping the back of my neck just that much harder. “I won't hurt you unless I have to.” He poked my lower back harshly, and aria just to the side of my spine. “This is where your right kidney is located. If I stabbed you here you would bleed to death in fifteen minutes.” He reached between my legs and pressed his fingers into the inside of my left knee, and then pressed his way up. “This is your femoral artery.” He reached under my armpit and grasped my upper arm harshly, pressing down hard. “This is your Brachial artery and up here, “ He said pressing his fingers into my neck “Is your Carotid artery. There’s two of everything. One for each side, and that’s just the blood that’s being delivered. There’s a whole different set that takes the blood back to your heart, and I know where every one of them is located. I also know every done in your body, and how to break them.” He let go of my neck and stepped back. “I know how to hurt you in ways that you don’t know exist, Alfred… But you already know that, so, why do you keep testing me? Why do you keep pushing my buttons and messing everything up!?”  
“I-I Just want to go home-”  
“It seems to me that your home is in heaven then.” He replied, pulling the chair on the other side of the table out. “How does the saying go? There are a lot of Fires to put out? You know. The one where you have to clean up a lot of stuff that someone else messed up. That’s what I will have to be doing now. Try not to cause any more trouble, or else I’ll have to force you to stop.”   
I couldn't see him when he spoke, but his voice was enough to send chills down my back. “O-okay..” I breathed out, hoping to sate the rest of his anger. “I mean, I still have to listen to you anyways. I’m sorry about… About the call. I just... “  
I heard the chair move and felt Ivan move up behind me. He leaned down and kissed the back of my neck softly. I felt goosebumps rise up on my skin and it was hard not to tense up. He kissed my neck again, flicking out his tongue before moving to another spot, and smoothed his gloved hands over my arms. I let out a surprised groan and arched away from the tickling sensations, pressing back into his lap as I leaned forward just a bit. How could this be happening now? Who in their right mind fills someone with fear and then… And then trys to seduce them on a whim?   
`1“Now I know why you woke me up in the night.” He murmured. “You were scared. Who knows what you would have done if you the call never came. We could have woken up to a domestic war.”   
He touched the skin just above my jeans and slowly slid his hand up my shirt, rubbing slowly around my navel. He ran his nose though my hair, Pressing his cheek against my head as I touched his hand with trembling fingers. “I guess I’ll just have to make sure you’re too tired to do anything next time.” He whispered huskily. “Or maybe I should make it so that you physically can’t do anything at all. How do you like the idea of silk, Alfred?” He asked, sliding his hand back down and unbuttoning my jeans.   
“No!” I shouted, grabbing his hand and pushing it away. “I’m not ready for that! Any of that!”  
“You’re not?” He said again, grasping my zipper with unmoving fingers. “You seemed ready yesterday when you teased me! When you pressed your lips against mine and made such lewd sounds that it made my heart beat like a bird that was going to die! You seemed ready then, when you were heating my blood and pressing yourself against me like a dog in heat!” He quickly unzip my pants and pressed his palm against my flaccid penis.   
“If you thought I was ready then why did you back off yesterday?!” I screamed, grabbing at his hands and trying to force them away. “You know i’m not willing! You know it so stop!”   
A strange sound came from his throat and he slammed me harshly into the wall.  
I let out a pained yelp and turned to try and calm him again, but before I could say anything he was was throwing the full glass of vodka at me. I turned slightly and covered my head, screaming as it hit the wall. It shattered and sent pungent liquid and shards of glass everywhere. I looked at him from the corner of my eye, cowering away as he advanced suddenly, screaming in his native tongue and pointing at me. His face was red and the veins in his neck bulged. He backed me into the corner and I tried to slide down the wall but he grabbed my arm and held me up. I didn’t look at him as he yelled and put my hand between us as a shield.   
He gripped my arm even tighter, trying to turn me around, but I wouldn't budge. His voice was still angry, but it quieted down after another thrust against the wall had me screaming again. His voice was growing more desperate as he went on and somewhere in all of it I heard his name. His pet name, the one his sisters gave him, and I looked up into his glistening eyes slowly.   
He quieted a moment, looking into my eyes before he released his hold on my arm. I was still so scared of him. His every movement was unpredictable, and I didn’t want to say or do anything that would set him off again.   
He stepped forward and zipped my pants back up carefully. “You have to watch what you do because I can’t always be held accountable for my actions. Especially when I am full of vodka. You… You need to trust me or else bad things could happen to you Alfred, but you also have to make sure that you know what you are doing before you do them.” He stroked my hair a moment before he stepped back and pointed at the shattered glass. “I want that cleaned up before I come back.” He gave me a fake smile, turned, and hurriedly stepped out the door.   
I watched him as he went, and after a moment I reached down to pick the pieces of the glass off the floor. I threw the biggest pieces in the trash can under the sink, and saw all the wrapping paper inside of it.   
The gifts were still in the house, and if the gifts were here then… Then the gun was too, and that could sway things in my favor if I could find it… and use it. Properly… Maybe then it wouldn’t be me who had to be careful of the other.


	14. Chapter 14

Hey everyone. Life is hard, but worth it. Lots of shit happened, and now moving on. I think short posts will move this along much faster. So, recap: (has to go re-re-read all that hog-wash fic.) Wow. I totally forgot I was ganna have Alfred kill him and then run off and die in the wilderness. Nvm. I'm joking. Anyway, Alfred calls a dude and starts some shit and now Ivan has to leave and Alfred is planning on shooting him. Sorry if stuff changes. Also, how old should Ivan be. Recently I wanted huge age difference, but now that makes me uncomfortable. Vote maybe? 17, 18, 20, 24, or 27. I can completely accept unrealistic. This is a fix based off personified countrys after all.

 

Chapter 14:

I had most of the glass picked up, but the small splintered pieces still lay in a puddle of vodka. The irony of this was that, between my brother and I, I'm the one that can't clean for shit. This glass was headed for the trash, but was making an unscheduled stop to get all snuggled up warm and tingly between my fingertips. At least it was covered in its own antiseptic, right? Brightside y'all.

I looked around and started putting my plan together. Get the glass picked up, get the gifted gun, murder the gifter. Simple. Easy. No problem. Step by step. I took a deep breath and tried to put the important things in order. Kill a guy, but first do the things he wanted in case you can't. Logic at its finest. 

“Okay. First things first. A towel for the glass. Yes. That seems… right. Good. Okay. A towel.” I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and went carefully to look out the door for an arguably human-like polar bear. 

With no such thing in sight, I stepped out into the living room with a slight pause. No falling net, no collapsing floor to a pit of doom, no man charging out from behind the couch with a knife. Good. All seemed well, but… paranoid is as (rightfully) paranoid does, I ran to the bathroom for a towel, throwing open the door and bursting in. 

“ A towel for the glass!” I told myself, right as a knife grazed passed my face. Startled, I stumbled back as I screamed, falling over backward and landing heavily on the floor. 

There, in the bathroom, was our dear Ivan. He was all suited up, sitting on the pot, another knife in hand, with his bottom lip bitten so harshly between his teeth that blood was drawn. I sat back up crawling over to the door as I made eye contact.

“Hurry and shut it!” he yelled, pants to his ankles, jacket over the pale translucent past of his thighs, scarf thrown safely over the broad of his shoulders, gloves on the counter, all suited in clinging black.

I reached up, stretching out into the bathroom and frantically reached for the knob, just missing it and half falling back to the floor. I attempt again and manage to slam the door shut right as he raised his voice again. 

“Sorry, I'm not slamming the door to what you're saying, just what you're doing!” I yell, and fell back on my hands. I could hear him mumbling on the other side, and decided to attempt cleaning the shards on my own. 

…

A palm full of blood and quite a few stinging cuts later, Ivan walked into the kitchen with a towel. He clicked his tongue at me and set it on the counter, walking over and taking my cupped hands in his. 

“I hope you washed your hands.” I commented quietly. It quiet, so I added more. “They kinda burn.” I said just as softly, lifting my hands for emphasis.

“Good.” He he replied unamused. “Serves you right.” He tipped my palm over, letting the blood drip to the floor, and continued. “Are you good for anything?” he asked. “Can't clean, can't cook, cant fuck. What can you do.” he said, clearly not asking a question, while pulling out tiny shards and throwing them, all red and dripping, back into the pile. 

“I'm probably the most fun you've had in awhile, and, maybe, you'd have more fun if you were a bit nicer to me!” I bit out, imagining the feeling of the gun in my hand as I aimed and pulled the trigger at his chest, his stomach, his face. His grip tightened on my wrist after, but he didn't say anything about it.

“We need tweezers.” Ivan stated after removing what shards he could. We walked to the bathroom in silence, and while he grabbed the first aid kit, I washed my hand off.

“Were you pooping?” I asked. He paused only long enough to gives me an annoyed look, his pale skin and exotic eyes contrasted perfectly the full black of his outfit. “Do you have to wear black to kill someone?” I asked.

“Don't worry about it.” He said, ending the conversation on his end. He's so lucky I can talk for two. “Well, at least you didn't blow up the bathroom with your shitty personality.” I said, completely expecting the next few harsh removals of glass. “You know what that means right? Blowing up the bathroom meana your poop was so smelly no one can stand to go in-Ow!” I finished, pulling my hand away as he forced the tweezers in particularly deep.

“Shut up! Stop talking! Why do you always have to be like this!” He said, dumping a bit of liquid on my hand and tossing bandages at me as he got up to leave, dropping the small metal tool on the counter. 

“Because you don't tell me anything and still expect me to let you put,” I gestured to his crotch. “your elephant-potato in my bum hole and that's not happening!” I shouted, following him out.

“You don't understand what's going on!” He said towards me. “There are things happening that you don't understand and-” 

“Because you won't tell me anything!” I interrupted. “You won't trust me and I can't trust you!” 

“Alfred, there are plenty of people out there that trust me with their life-”

“They're scared of you! They-”

“That comes with the territory! They all agreed to their lives in one way or another and-” 

“ I didn't agree to anything!” I shouted as he turned and punched the wall. 

“Shut up!” he yelled, grabbing his boots and slamming the door behind him. 

I ran to the window and watched him put them on in the cold. 

“I hope they rot off.” I mumbled as he stormed off to the right and out of sight. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the towel, throwing it over the pile to absorb Ivan’s bullshit, fuming the whole time. 

I swept the pile up carelessly, building up and stewing in my anger. “Now where’s that gun?” I asked myself as I tapped the dustpan into the bin. I tossed it aside and went to look through my clothes for something black to wear.


	15. 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin moving the plot along. Also, shout out to the The_Twinless_Twin for leaving a comment that made me be like 'Oh. I guess I should work on this." So, this is for you guys who managed to stick around even though I'm trash. Also, I know many of you are like "Why you no update" and I never update, so why is Twin's so special? BECAUSE I MANAGED TO SEE IT. I NEVER SEE THE COMMENTS ON MY STORY'S ANYMORE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, any of you mo fo's also emotionally incapable of being human? That's good. You can now get down and dirty with this 10 second snapchat of a chapter!

Let me tell you this right now, okay? Okay.Good. When I say that Ivan is dumb, I don’t mean it in a literal way. You get what I mean? I’m sure he’s traditionally very smart, just like me, but he lacks… a certain ‘penis-say-waaa??’ (Je nu sais quoi: Literal translation ‘I dont know what.’ My translation: ‘Whatever the fuck’ But also ‘Penis-say-waaa??’. Don’t tell Matthew I looked this up, and if you’re reading forgettable twin, I didn't look it up, so shut it.) if you get my drift?  
Like, for me, I know I push a few buttons now and again, but I know i’m doing it. I do it for the fun of it. I love it. He… Sits his ass down on your emotional control panel and lets his ass cheeks go all Beethoven on that shit. In the end you can’t even HANDEL the emotional turmoil and you just start HAYDEN-ing him, you know? You would understand if you were in my situation. 

Oh! That’s right! My situation! I bet your pretty interested in how I got involved in this three and a half year time jump with me in the middle of a heated gun battle against Ivan’s little (Lol large) Underground-mafia-Revenge group with me teamed up with a band of Chinese opium dealers after running away from a separate but also very-important-Swedish-Underground-Mafia group? Yea, I bet you are! Super fun that story. 

But don’t worry about that right now! We will get to that part, right now we have to get back to whatever-the-fuck was going on before. What was it? Oh yea! Contemplating murder after some vodka glass or something got broke. Fucked my hand up that one. Hold on. I need to get into character again. I had to take an emotional dump break, you know?

Back to why Ivan’s not dumb, but is. You see, I got the glass taken care of, which only left getting the gun, murdering him, getting back to the home country, and then maybe seeking some counseling for the trauma that was bound to happen from the murder of my Stockholm syndrome inducing molester-kidnapper who almost single handedly fueled my sexuality crisis. I think the word ‘child’ should be thrown in there somewhere? Anyway, I’m a great planner, but that’s not really how life goes for people like me. 

You see, I left the kitchen and tore that house apart. Not carefully may I add. I walked out of the kitchen, putting the bandages on as I went, and looked around the poorly described ‘nice’ house of Ivan’s in the middle of the the Arctic, which was also having its yearly summer. Convenient anyone? I dare say so! It was an absolute fiasco!  
I tore paintings off the wall, stuffing from the couch, shoes were thrown across the room, the piano was touched in ways that now one as tone deaf as me should ever touch a piano, books were in the fish tank, the tv was facing the wall, the bed was against the door, and no where, AND I MEAN NOWHERE, was there a single gun. My plan was ruined before it had even begun and the house was ruined.  
What did I do about it? Nothing at first. Instead I sobbed for hours over a photo album I found in the trunk, just looking at every picture and touching the memories of faces I would probably never see again. I got really hung up on the the picture of Matt, Jack and I. It was Jack’s first ever BBQ and it was in my backyard. My father was in the background at the grill, Jack’s parents were next to him looking very concerned at us, and my arms were slung over the shoulders of my sibling (Who was cut off right down the middle) and my (brand new) best friend. Jack and I both had yellowing black eyes, and he had a swollen split lip. I was smiling like the best thing in the world had just happened, Matthew had a sweet smile on his face, and Jack looked like he was dead inside.  
You see, I had beat the crap out of him only days before because he punched me in the face after he thought I called him ‘Jap’. The older boys were chanting ‘Jap, Jap, samurai Jap!” and I heard ‘Jack, Jack, Samurai Jack!” One thing lead to another and he was Jack to me from that point on. He was also the turning point to my curving sexuality, but let's not dwell on that just yet.  
I fell asleep on the floor, clutching the photos. I woke up the next day, cold and alone, on the floor in the middle of a massive mess, with a splitting headache. After a quick walk through the house and a few glances out the window, I determined Ivan was nowhere in sight. I cleaned up everything as quickly as I could, and swept up anything broken that could not be saved. In the end it wasn’t that big of a problem. Ivan didn’t come back for three days, and when he did he just opened the door and looked me over before disappearing again.  
I followed him out, asking a few questions, but he was gone almost as quickly, driving east into the never setting sun. I had plenty of time to explore after that, and I don’t know when he came back either. Let’s just say I was gone for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> This started on Fanfiction. It's my first so be kind! Also, (Not sure about now) D.C had the lowest crime rate, but the highest murder rate in all of the U.S.


End file.
